The Wrath of Magic War
by Janika
Summary: The king's brother, Rakar, orchestrates a war that will bring his country to its knees. Not only does he plan to weaken Cosium but by the end he will grow into the heartless villain it seems he was destined to become. Rated for violence and adult themes.
1. The Storm Gathers

**This is a sequel to my other background fic,** The Legend of Karok **, and both of them are tributes to LiyuConberma's medieval fan-world in which Sonic, Shadow and Silver are the children of King Kaze and Queen Sapphire. This story takes place approximately 15 years before they were born and in fact can fit quite snugly between chapters 2 and 3 of "Tale of Origin" which can be found on DeviantArt. Don't read that one just yet if you don't want major spoilers!**

 _ **Chapter 1: The Storm Gathers**_

The sky above Cosium had been shadowed by dense cloudcover that promised rain but had delivered none in the past two days. Though it was the middle of the day and all the villagers in Ruatha ought to have been busy working in the fields to get the crops planted before the shower began, every single person had crowded the square instead. A raised platform with three whipping posts stood at the center, weakening and splitting as fire ate away at its supports. The flames were not nearly as hot as the anger of those looking on and the black smoke swept up to join the dark, boiling clouds above.

"They forced us into hard labor, starved our families, and tried to break us with beatings!" a yellow cat cried to the crowd, one hand gesturing to the blackening whipping posts in needless emphasis. "We _won't_ sit back and let them keep doing it now that they no longer have any authority over us!"

The response was deafening as fury swelled in Ruatha's townsfolk. Even most of the soldiers who had served Baron Jaxom joined their ranks, shouting for his downfall.

Anger that had always simmered just beneath the surface broke through every so often over the years. Once the legendary Karok had begun his escapades, defiance had been more frequent. But with the news that the king and his wife had decreed all barons relinquish control of the towns, the commoners' outrage manifested itself into this form when the hedgehog who ruled over them refused.

"I say we show Baron Jaxom exactly what we think of him! If he won't obey the law and let us live our lives, we'll _make_ him!"

More shouts filled the smoky air and minutes later the yellow cat was leading the mob toward a manor they had all despised from infancy. As they marched, another cat pushed forward to tug at her husband's tunic.

"Farrell, I think you're taking this too far. You need to get them to understand this isn't the way. We're already united against him. Baron Jaxom _can't_ make us obey him anymore."

"It's our one chance, Mara!" he growled back. "The baron and his family are gone anyway. It would serve him right to come back to a ruin. Let _him_ feel what it's like to lose everything."

"Farrell—"

"I know what I'm doing!" he interrupted her roughly.

The manor stood on a hill overlooking the village—a fat spider keeping an eye on the trapped occupants of its web—and the few remaining members of Baron Jaxom's guard fled before they arrived, leaving the place undefended. Upon entering, the commoners were infuriated by the elegance and luxury that overflowed in every room, leaving hardly any spot bare.

The looting began within seconds, but afterward no one could say for certain whether the drapes caught fire by accident or on purpose. Either way, flames consumed the house.

Only when it was far too late to do anything did someone notice figures at a third-story window, trapped.

* * *

Three hedgehogs were in the royal suite, the recently-crowned King Mortesen sitting on a sofa, head in hands.

"This isn't what I wanted…"

Rakar folded the letter describing details of the riots, then swept a hand through his red-brown quills that had grown darker since the year before. He wasn't surprised this had happened, and in fact had expected it to begin the week before when the announcement of the new law first went out. But he was more concerned with the fact that his brother did nothing except sit there. Their father, King Negolas, would have been marshalling his forces and declaring war on the towns responsible immediately after finding out.

"Brother, you have to _**do**_ something," he said after too long a silence.

Athena nodded unhappily from her place beside her husband. They had only been married six months. "Rakar is right. No matter how they felt about the nobles, it wasn't right to kill them. Your law already stripped the barons of their power and threatened them if they did not obey. There was no need for violence."

"Are you sure it's just twelve villages where this happened?" the black hedgehog asked without looking up.

"So far," his brother answered. "I was going to send most of the soldiers we have here to all the villages nearby, then I planned to contact the other garrisons to spread out in their areas. I understand many of the nobles are already fleeing to cities."

The king finally raised his head, clearly distraught. "Rakar, I want all the soldiers to understand they are to suppress any violence and protect the nobles— _not_ to kill or arrest anyone. I'll…I'll come up with a suitable punishment later. It's not their fault… _It's not their fault!_ "

Rakar's jaw was clamped so tightly that it almost felt as though his teeth would crack. He gave a quick movement in the imitation of a nod and left the bedroom, afraid if he stayed any longer he would erupt.

Once his brother was gone, Mortesen looked down again. "It's _**my**_ fault. I knew it wouldn't be a smooth transition. Why didn't I realize until now that the peasants would really want revenge?"

"You can't take all the blame, Mortesen." Athena's hands slid around his shoulders and she pressed close to his side. "I didn't think about this either. The main reason it hasn't happened before is because they knew the king would take the side of the nobles no matter what. They were afraid of King Negolas and most of your ancestors. They aren't afraid of you."

"I don't want to instill fear. It would be best to have them willingly obey…but how do you make people _want_ to do as you say? And now that they've done this I can't overlook it. I understand why the peasants reacted this way but I also understand the barons have always taken advantage of them because that's the way they've been taught to act in the first place. How do I know what's truly fair here?"

The blue hedgehog leaned her head against his shoulder, unable to answer. Life was never easy, and for a king who had to bear the burdens of everyone, it was more complicated and stressful than any other position that she could imagine.

* * *

 _ **8 years later**_

A brisk wind carrying the first chill of winter swept through the gardens that had mostly gone dormant for the season. Athena herded her two sons indoors for their lessons while her adopted son, Benonic, wandered toward the training yard. None of them seemed overly concerned about the announcement that had just been made, though Rakar was still stunned. He continued to stare at Mortesen without comprehension, the news so unexpected and ridiculous that he thought it was a joke. But the king didn't take back the words and he had no choice but to accept them.

Rakar gripped the edge of a large pot beside him that nurtured a cluster of tiny moss roses. "Brother, I can't believe you _did_ that!"

"Betrothals are nothing unusual."

"With a hedgehog, yes, but that—that—" Rakar stammered to a stop, one arm gesturing repeatedly toward the sea as he tried to find a description less offensive than 'fish'. This farce couldn't possibly last, but even the appearance of such an alliance could be damaging to the country's reputation. He finally took a deep breath and tried to explain what should have been obvious. "Our family have been hedgehogs since Cosium was founded. You don't want to pollute our bloodline, do you?"

Mortesen shook his head, brushing off the argument. "You sound just like Father."

"Well, at least _one_ of us does," he said with an undertone of irritation. "It's laughable— _embarrassing!_ If you really want to use this as an excuse to strengthen relations with Atlantis, why not have _Darren_ marry the merhog instead?"

"You haven't seen them together," the king said with a smile. "Darren tags along, but it's clear to me that Kaze has a much deeper attachment to Princess Sapphire. Father never would have let me marry Athena if he'd had a say in the matter. I know that, and it's why I'm not going to place any obstacles in Kaze's path."

"…As _adorably romantic_ as that is," Rakar said with a certain amount of sarcasm, "you can't even be sure this can work out on a practical level. How in the world is a merhog supposed to live in Cosium? Or does Atlantis expect Kaze to move into the sea?"

Mortesen got off the stone bench, brushing some pollen from his clothes. "Queen Marissa says there is a spell that can enable their kind to venture inland, but it hasn't been used since before she was born. Posiden is powerful enough to cast it on Sapphire, but he wants to wait until she's older to avoid affecting her growth. According to him, the princess has a cousin who can take the Atlantian throne if she and Kaze don't have more than one heir."

"And you actually think a _half-breed_ should be able to rule Cosium?"

"Rakar, _whatever_ my grandchild is, I think he should rule Cosium." But then Mortesen stood back, abruptly starting to laugh. "Why am I talking about _that_ when Kaze isn't even seven years old? Let's just deal with what's directly in front of us, shall we?"

"Yes, that would be best," Rakar agreed.

There _had_ to be a way to break it off.

* * *

A week later King Mortesen watched with a smile as his son flew in a weaving pattern around Cosium Castle. He put fingers up to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle, then the prince with blue fur marked by red stripes came streaking back toward the balcony where he waited. Catching him in midair, Mortesen immediately looked at Kaze's wristbands.

"How did they work?"

Kaze shivered, not making his wings disappear as he usually did after landing. "They get really cold every time I pass through the barrier, but at least I don't bounce back anymore."

"Alright, you can go play now. But don't leave the castle grounds. It's nearly dinner time." Mortesen fingered the markings etched in the metal one last time before tossing his son upward. The hedgehog's wings caught the air and he glided away.

His wife stood behind him, her pure blue fur almost the same color as the cloudless sky overhead. "I'm glad he can get through the castle's barrier, but are you sure that was a good idea? Just suppose someone copies the symbols on those bands. That would put us all in danger from any airborne enemies, you know."

Mortesen sighed. "I know, but I've been worried about it ever since last month when he accidentally brushed too close to the barrier. If that tree hadn't caught him, he could have gotten worse than a sprained wrist."

"Are you sure it doesn't have more to do with the fact that you think he needs more freedom?" Her arms were crossed and she had a critical stance. "He's still a child, you know."

He rubbed the back of his head nervously as though he wasn't looking forward to having this particular argument. "Well…I don't see a problem with that. He's always telling me it's too cramped, and the only way to get out is by landing and going through a gate. But it's not really the—"

"Mama!" Kaze interrupted his parents, wings beating in a panicked frenzy. "Darren can't stop!"

Queen Athena ran to the railing, crimson eyes wide with alarm. "Where is he?"

"Over there in the garden. I just saw him making a little vine, but then they started popping up everywhere and he—"

She didn't even wait for him to finish, turning to her husband at once. "Mortesen, get me down there now!"

A racing wind swept from the balcony down to the grass below, materializing into the king and queen. Athena took off running in the direction Kaze had pointed. Past the arbor there was a cluster of writhing vines that glowed green as they loomed larger and larger. She could see Darren kneeling on the ground, trying desperately to stop his magic from losing control, but it was getting more out of hand by the second.

Using her abilities to push them aside was only partially successful because they resisted, crowding closer to Darren as though attempting to smother him. Athena's magic and strength were put to the test as she forced her way through, ignoring several wicked thorns that seized and tore her dress.

"Darren—look at me," she commanded in a low, calming voice once she'd gotten to him.

His red eyes peeled open and she could see the tears in them, but the sight of his mother crouching in front of him seemed to be a relief.

"Hold my hands. Good. Now take a deep breath and do what I do."

The five-year-old's little chest continued to spasm with sobs, but Darren started to quiet. Her hands glowed too, and the glimmer that twisted and flared all over him stabilized. After a minute some of the vines receded, disappearing into the ground. The rest had stopped thrashing like live tentacles, but she didn't try to guide him through the process of banishing all of them. Maybe in a day or two.

Once he had it under control, Athena found her son lying limp in her arms. Carrying him slowly back to the castle, she noticed many stares from the servants. Some of them were whispering to each other.

"M-Mama… I didn't…mean to do it…" he struggled to say between breaths.

Then his head rolled back and she saw the Third Eye on his forehead slide shut, indicating he had lost consciousness. The queen's jaw tightened with worry. They came to the castle entrance where Mortesen stood waiting.

"How bad was it?"

She stroked the sweaty fur along Darren's temple, not looking up. "Worse than last time. He was so scared that the vines sprouted thorns again. I had difficulty moving them aside so that I could reach him. I wish I knew why he keeps losing control. It only happened to me a few times as a child."

"Athena, maybe we should—"

" _ **No**_ ," she growled, eyes glittering fiercely. Her arms tightened around the little ebony hedgehog protectively. "I won't send him away."

"I didn't say that. I've _never_ said that. If the masters at the Academy just spent some time with him maybe they could tell us what's wrong." Mortesen put a hand on his wife's shoulder and she shifted just enough to put herself between him and Darren. "We can't trust that he'll grow out of this, especially since he may not gain full mastery over his magic for another two years. It happens every week now—he's not getting better! Athena, you _can't_ always be there to keep him safe from himself."

Athena's face grew afraid but she didn't say a word.

"You know you can stay with Darren while he's there," he added. "Besides, he'll probably enjoy spending time in their library. He'll think it's a vacation."

"And what about Kaze and Ben?" she murmured so low that he had difficulty hearing her.

"They'll be fine, I promise. Don't you _trust me_ alone with those two?"

She caught the mock-offense in his voice and couldn't hold back the smile. " _You're_ the one I'm most worried about, Mortesen. All right. Once his magic fatigue passes I'll arrange a ship to take us to the Academy."

He touched her cheek briefly. "That's all I ask."

* * *

"Come on, Flora!" Kaze coaxed, holding out a bucket of oats mixed with honey and chopped apples.

The deer with a thick cream and green pelt took one step forward then lifted his head as though suspicious. He stood that way for a minute, then finally approached, burying his snout in the bucket to devour his favorite treat. Kaze stroked the thick fur of the Mystical's leg, slowly edging along beside him. Just as he was about to pull himself up, Flora gave a startled noise and stamped his hoof.

His shoulder collided with Kaze, sending him to the ground, then the stag disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. He was still coughing for breath when someone pulled him up, and he recognized the black and white skunk in armor standing above him.

"You should know better than to mess with any Mystical no matter whose it is."

"Sorry, Captain," the prince said, partly ashamed. "I just wanted to see if I could ride him. Haven't you ever seen him carry Mother? They fly through the trees so fast—it's amazing!"

"All the same," Alexei Stripeback chided, "you should always be careful when their partners aren't around. Mysticals are intelligent, but they're still wild animals."

Kaze nodded glumly, then looked around with excitement. "Where's yours?"

"She's keeping out of sight, but I could call her."

Eoduin trotted out of the underbrush at the sound of her name—larger than a wolf and bearing the same fluid grace as one, yet her muzzle was more rounded and there was a drooping cast to her ears that betrayed her parentage as less than pure. She stood patiently as Kaze gave her a good scratch beneath the chin.

The skunk captain knelt beside them, his thoughts returning once more to the first time he'd seen her when he was a child. She had been driven away from her pack as a cub because she was different. Alexei found her alone and starving near his hometown of Ruatha, and it was only when she was older that he realized she wasn't any ordinary hound. Her eyes held an intelligence too pronounced for an animal. Everyone agreed she must be a Mystical.

After his family moved to Cosium Town so that Alexei's father could join the military, Eoduin followed without any encouragement. She grew increasingly protective of him and the feeling was mutual. No matter what others said or how they tried to dissuade him, he finally performed the bonding contract.

In a way it was frowned upon. In the countryside, about one in six commoners had a bond with the creatures that were more than feral beasts yet still ranked lower than people, but "soldiers ought not be distracted by such things." Marriage apparently didn't count as a distraction, though he begged to differ.

Alexei refocused on the young prince, noticing he had stopped smiling and was now staring at the ground. "Do you think Darren will be okay? He was sick for almost a whole day."

As much as he wanted to be reassuring, Alexei knew it would be wrong to raise Kaze's hopes without knowing whether the young prince really would be fine, otherwise he'd feel betrayed if the worst happened. The skunk placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder.

"I don't have any answers, and there's only so much we can do. He needs help, and if he doesn't get it, yes, he could die. That's why your mother took him away yesterday."

"But…what if they can't help? What if he doesn't come back?"

A sad smile pulled at the corner of Alexei's mouth. Kaze made it his duty to tease Darren, and often the jokes could be unkind, but he really did care about his little brother. Alexei was quiet for a short time, then he looked at his Mystical, brow furrowing in concentration.

Finally he returned his attention to Kaze, saying, "I don't know, but you can only deal with what is happening now—not what _might_ happen. What _can_ you do?"

The azure prince kicked a little clod of dirt up with his heel. "…Nothing useful."

"Do you think you're the only one who's worried about Prince Darren?"

"I dunno. No one else seems to be," he shrugged.

"Then your father and Benonic are just trying not to show it. I guarantee they are just as worried as you, if not more. One thing I know you can do is try to keep them from being too preoccupied with what's happening at the Academy. My Prince, you can help them focus on something else."

Kaze's eyes lit with determination and the beginning of a smile flickered into being. Now he had something to do. He was a child, but he was _needed_ by those older than him. With a hasty farewell to the skunk captain, he spread his wings.

As he watched Prince Kaze fly back to the castle, Alexei gave Eoduin a pat. "It was a good suggestion. I honestly didn't know what to say. Sometimes I think you understand people better than I do. Thank you."

The half-wolf leaned against her partner, happy to have been helpful. It took great effort to communicate with him, and half the time he didn't understand.

"Maybe you can explain why Trina is stressed over the baby," he proposed with a hint of exasperation. "There were no complications with the first one and it was almost so easy that she was disappointed at putting all that effort into preparing. Why does she have to be so dramatic about _this_ birth?"

Eoduin's tongue lolled from her mouth in a knowing, canine smile. Some things were just easier for females to understand.

Then her head jerked toward the beach just beyond the cliff, damp nostrils quivering as she detected someone nearby. The hedgehog who always gave off that _wrongness_. Wolves were able to smell emotions as easily as physical scents and she could tell he was feeling torn…distressed…but mostly angry.

Well, it was none of her concern, so she gave a dismissive _whuff_ in answer to Alexei's curious look.

* * *

A short distance from the Forbidden Forest, Rakar walked along the shoreline. He simply couldn't stand it any longer. The idea of a _merhog_ marrying into the Royal family was worse than shameful.

Mortesen had worked for years to make treaties with other countries, and was even pivotal in creating a joint alliance with six of them. Why couldn't he use one of those to continue the Cosium line? Except for the Ice Empire and Crescent, the Royalty were all legitimate hedgehogs with good breeding. Why couldn't Mortesen just be sensible about this?

There was someone who could likely help with the process, though.

Rakar was over two miles from the castle now, and the shallow cave hid him from any curious eyes that might be about. Wet sand shifted beneath his boots, making it difficult to stride forward with the purposeful air he intended.

A pool of seawater from the last tide lay trapped in the place, his associate resting her gray-green tentacles in it to keep them comfortably moist. If not for the octopus-half, he would have considered her quite comely with her narrow waist and long, crimped black hair…and even the fins along her ears had something about them that tempted him to feel their ridges. Even though she used a mask to hide most of her face, it only served to make her more interesting.

"Nymph. You were quite prompt."

"It is a rare treat to be invited by you. I could not resist arriving early."

She slid forward, tentacles moving in a strange way that made her glide yet was also full of constant, unnatural movement that gave off disturbing vibes, and he wondered if this was how others felt around him at times. He had no control over his aura that Mortesen had described long ago as an uneasy feeling slithering underneath his skin. His brother had gotten used to it by an effort of the will, and apparently others could too.

Nymph's fingers tiptoed up his arms as he stood there impassively, two of her tentacles draping over his shoulders from behind. "You don't have to be so stiff, do you? When was the last time we met? Nearly three months ago, you know."

"I told you before, I am not free to give my affections to anyone. Ours is a partnership only."

"Why should that get in the way?" she teased. "Our superior did say we were to work closely. He didn't say _how_ close. I can shape-shift into a hedgehog, if that makes you more comfor—"

"My brother plans to have his son marry the merhog princess," he said, cutting her off.

Her reaction was immediate. If not for the mask hiding the upper half of her face, he was sure Nymph would have looked furious. She threw herself away from him, tentacles writhing and lashing. Foreign curses fell from her lips and she stormed to the farthest corner of the little cave, ripping seaweed off a rock and strangling it to green pulp. Any reminder of the merhogs usually resulted this way. Several minutes passed before she was able to compose herself.

"So the queen is having a lovely time with her family, is she?" The octopus-creature spoke in a tone of contempt, mouth quirking into a sneer with every other word. "How _nice_ of her to be responsible for my exile, apologize and then forget about me. That oblivious, carefree, stinking little—!"

"Your emotions are clouding your judgment, Nymph," Rakar interrupted. It was tiresome listening to her rant. Again. "I can come back once you are calm enough to discuss a plan of action."

" _I'm calm enough now!_ " she screamed not-so-calmly.

"Then prove it and help me find a way to stop this."

Nymph breathed wildly, trying to wrestle her emotions back under control and making her bust heave in the process. The red-brown hedgehog tried to keep his eyes politely averted, but it _was_ an impressive display.

"Start the war now, Rakar," she said at last. "Accidents always happen during war. I'll find a way to arrange it, and by the end your people and theirs will hate each other so much that a marriage would never be able to take place."

He considered the option briefly before giving a slow nod. It could work. Creating a reason for hatred between them was far more likely to succeed if the setting was already washed with blood.

"I'll begin forming a relationship with Rofaki and Gardford right away. It will take more planning to disrupt things in the countries allied with Cosium, but I doubt that will present much of a problem. Everyone has a weakness."

A small, sleek smile formed on Nymph's face and she sidled close to him once more. "This will be a great triumph for us both. Our superior will be pleased if all goes well."

"Wars never go according to plan," he said pessimistically. "Not when you're dealing with anything as unpredictable as _people_."

"This one will because _you_ are the one in control." The sea witch stooped down to get something beside a stone. "I have a gift for you, Rakar. You told me about your experiments. I thought perhaps you would like to broaden your skills."

The hedgehog accepted a sealskin parcel, unrolling it to see a collection of various vials, knives, hooks and other tools.

"Torture?" He shook his head and rolled it back up. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I haven't done that since I punished my father's murderer. It's a line I do not intend to cross again."

"Rakar, you _already_ torment those pathetic lawbreakers. Mental torture…physical torture… I fail to see a difference that would affect your conscience."

"There is one. My experiments are useful. They teach me what I can and cannot do."

He held out the parcel to her but Nymph gently pushed it back, hands lingering on his as she did so. "Keep it. I made it for you even if you never make any use of it."

Rakar decided it couldn't hurt to humor the creature before him who had not always been an octopus. After all, he had orders to confer with her and the last thing he wanted to do was make her upset over refusing a gift.

It would take time—perhaps all winter—but he was sure the negotiations would be successful. Then Cosium would be put to the test. Weaken it from within and attack it from without… Those were his instructions, and as much as he detested them, Rakar also understood it needed to happen before the country could be reforged into what it ought to be.

* * *

"I can't—I can't!" Darren cried out, tears falling to the floor as vines surged all around him. They climbed the stone walls as though searching for a way out, then came shooting back toward their creator and tangling with each other in a mad dance. " _Mama! Help me!_ "

A female mountain goat in an earth-brown dress and green cape sat beside him, talking in a low voice and her hands glowing as she kept the rebellious vines from attacking herself or him. The prince didn't seem to be paying any attention to her words, though. Athena stood in the doorway of the stone room, hands clenched, wishing with all her might that she could pass through the barrier. Her face was written with pain as she spun to the mage standing there.

"Please let me go to him, Master Briar! He needs me!"

She worried they wouldn't be able to help. Since the goat wasn't closely related to Darren, her magic couldn't overlap his to the point that they could sense each other's weavings and lead him safely out. It was insanity to put him in this position!

But the brown desert hare who appeared to be between fifty and sixty years old shook his head in an authoritative way. "You needn't worry, Queen Athena. She will take care of him. Rosewood and I are two of the best Nature-wielders the Academy has produced in the last century. We've worked through this problem with several others before."

She grew hopeful. "You know what's happening to my son?"

He observed Prince Darren for a thoughtful minute as the young hedgehog started listening to the master beside him. Nothing about the vines changed, but he looked less distraught.

"Did you ever show him how to create his vines?"

"No. He was able to do that very early on and never needed help. I only showed him how to make them fade away when he grew upset."

"I suspected that might be the case." Mage-Master Briar gave a noise like a teakettle releasing steam. "Queen Athena, your magic is extrinsic—you need to use living plants. Your son may have _some_ extrinsic abilities, but his is primarily intrinsic—he can form vines out of pure magic. They require two completely different methods to control properly. You cannot guide Darren through it without confusing him."

"You mean every time I tried to help…I was making the situation worse?"

The desert hare nodded, partly sympathetic but mostly stern. "You've been teaching him to treat his vines as though they exist outside his own power. The result is what's known as a third-class Elemental—unstable, uncontrollable, and very violent. …Queen Athena, why didn't you bring him here sooner? Wasn't it obvious something was wrong with your son long ago?"

The blue hedgehog tried to look him in the face, but her eyes dropped uneasily to the floor. "I thought… I thought it was a phase he would grow out of on his own."

"He is beyond the point where a sudden loss of control could be fatal if you weren't there to pull him out," he said. "Prince Darren must relearn almost everything you taught him. He has gotten into a dangerous habit and will need patient correction. For the time being he must remain here."

"How long?" she wondered.

"Several months."

Athena dropped onto the bench beside her, gaping at him. " _Months?!_ "

"He can return home every now and then, but not for more than a few days at a time before we're absolutely sure he has learned well enough to regain control even when suffering great emotional stress."

She continued to sit there, stunned. "But I don't understand. Why so long?"

"Queen Athena," he began patiently, "as natural as magic comes to those of your country, when something goes wrong it is not easy to fix. It isn't just a matter of _deciding_ to change. Imagine someone taught you to read incorrectly. How hard would it be to reassign different sounds to each letter before you were able to understand them without thinking about it?"

She turned away, beginning to grasp the problem she had created. The sight of Darren within the room caught her attention and she brightened. He looked intent, biting his lip and pressing a hand against the nearest vine. The wild whipping had ceased and, though it continued to twist about, there was something less frantic in the movements. As she watched, it began to shrink.

"His emanation is beginning to settle now too," Briar commented.

With each deep breath he took, the glow around Darren's body grew more focused until it was mostly confined to his hands. Only an occasional spark flared around the rest of him.

The hare nodded in approval. "He should only have an hour or two of magic fatigue. I'll arrange for him to stay with the novices for now. Your presence will subconsciously remind him of the improper way to use his magic, so to keep from being a distraction I suggest you return home in a few days. A week at most."

Athena closed her eyes, hardly able to take it in without growing emotional. This was what she had been so afraid of happening. Darren was still her baby. It felt like abandoning him…

"Mama," Darren panted, leaning against Mage-Master Rosewood as they exited the room. His glasses had been knocked askew during the turmoil but he didn't seem to care. "It was hard—harder than anything—but I did it!"

Athena leaped up and gave him a hug. His fur felt drenched with sweat and he certainly showed signs of tiredness, but her son was also elated. A tight feeling squeezed her throat closed. A few minutes later, she was carrying his unconscious form after the mages as they led her to the room where he would be staying.

"If he decides to continue schooling here with us, there are already permanent quarters set aside for Cosium royalty. A great pity," Mage-Master Briar sighed, head shaking as his thoughts turned to something else. "Your brother had such potential."

She glanced at him, confused for a painful moment, then realized he couldn't be referring to her deceased twin. "You mean Rakar?"

"Yes. Every known technique of the Dark Element came as easily to him as fishing does to an otter. Rakar could have become a master and stayed on here to teach others, but he insisted that was the last thing he ever wanted to do. He seemed to dislike training novices."

"I suspect he disagreed with our policy of non-aggression," Rosewood added. "He was always emphatic about the need to protect Cosium and he spoke out quite often against the tradition Academy masters have of giving up any allegiance to their homelands.

The hedgehog queen paused to remember what happened four years earlier. Rakar had been spending more time than usual at the Academy, then he simply disappeared, leaving a letter about wanting to pursue his education elsewhere. Nearly five months passed before he returned to Cosium, having found nothing in other countries worth his time. He had grown interested in the legal system, and at his request Mortesen had given him the position of justice over several areas northeast of the castle. But he'd never really spoken of what he did for those five mysterious months.

Athena looked down at her son and all other thoughts faded away. It was her fault this had happened. As difficult as it was…she knew leaving him was what she had to do.

 **A/N: To see how cute he looks, google "LiyuConberma young Darren". He's adorable! And if you want to see Nymph, google "LiyuConberma Atlantis". Maybe she isn't as buxom as I made her out to be here, but she sure is for any anthro I've ever seen aside from Rouge.**

 **Anyway, a lot of research went into figuring out the extent and limits of magic in the world of Cosium (I'm sure Liyu got quite tired of my questions, but she never said it), so there will a fair bit of information about it dumped on you throughout the story.**


	2. Deep Breath Before the Plunge

_**Chapter 2: Deep Breath Before the Plunge**_

" _What is it like for you now?"_ Benonic signed in lieu of speaking. He _could_ talk, but it was painful because of his unnatural set of fangs which he kept hidden beneath a mask.

The brothers sat in the playroom, their toys forgotten in the excitement of having Darren back for a few days. He'd been gone almost four months and this was his third home visit.

The ebony hedgehog shrugged at his adopted brother who was twelve years older. "It's hard to describe. At first it was like trying to balance on a ridgepole. Now it's… I guess it's more like trying to carry three goose eggs with one hand. Still kinda difficult, but not as scary and definitely not as dangerous."

Benonic wondered what it must be like to use magic. He didn't understand the ease with which practically every native-born person in Cosium could flick a finger and tap into a source of power that wasn't physical.

"So do you think you'll be living at home again soon?" Kaze asked.

"Mage-Master Briar said I should be well-trained enough to come back permanently by next month. He also said I should have a personal tutor and he wants to talk to our parents about it. Something about not wanting to waste my 'natural talent' or whatever."

" _You mean he thinks you'd make a good mage?"_

"I guess so. This past month he allowed me to study with some of the alchemist novices and he said I could start working with potions when I get back, which I _think_ means he's impressed…but I'm not sure. He might just want to get me away from the books. Their librarian gets upset at me for making a mess."

Benonic tried to stifle a deep snorting laugh, making Darren grin.

"I _have_ to! I just started doing some research on what they know about Cosmos Diamonds and…" he trailed off, looking suddenly uneasy.

"What is it?" the azure hedgehog with red stripes wondered, his interest renewed at the prospect of something out of the ordinary.

"Well…" Their young brother seemed conflicted, as though he wasn't sure whether he felt comfortable sharing. "A few weeks ago I was in the wing set aside for Coizards—there are a lot of our people there, you know—and there's one room that can only be opened by members of our Royal family. I was curious."

" _And?_ " Kaze prompted.

"It was Uncle Rakar's old room. Looked like he just abandoned it, leaving a bunch of things half-finished. There wasn't anything odd at first, but then I found some notes he left lying by the bed. He had some interesting things written down about Cosmos Diamonds, but underneath those papers…most of it was about demons and… _Black Magic_."

The other two stared at him in either shock or disbelief. Black Magic—better known as Blood Magic—was forbidden to the point that people only talked about it in whispers. ...Power achieved through death, using blood or flesh, and overshadowed by demonic forces. All Darren and Kaze knew was what they'd heard in stories, and those were horrifying enough to make anyone squeamish about the idea.

"I'm _not_ making this up," he insisted stubbornly.

A few seconds later Benonic's hands moved. _"I suspected it. I've been around people who practiced Blood Magic before."_

Darren glanced between his big brothers, disturbed but also relieved that someone else knew now. "Should we say something to Mama and Papa?"

" _No,"_ Benonic said, surprising them both. _"Technically there's no proof that he's done anything other than investigate it, which isn't necessarily wrong. We have to keep watching without dropping any hints that we know, otherwise he may cover his tracks so well that we'll never find out more. We keep our eyes open for now. That's all."_

It was sound advice and they briefly went over a basic plan of action, with Darren finding out what he could at the Academy while Benonic and Kaze searched at the castle. Their secret conspiracy had a unifying effect, but unfortunately they were still only children who didn't know exactly what they were looking for or what to do if they found it.

* * *

A long-tailed ground squirrel sat beside the grand, empty throne of Gardford, her fur a dark indigo. Twenty-eight bracelets hung from her arms, only a small number of them set with gemstones. The rest were much simpler; ones she'd been given before being married to the king.

Some thought a noble whose family had fallen out of favor with the Royal court for the past two generations ought to have been humbled, but Martharine wore pride and dignity like a robe. The king ignored his advisors, saying diamonds were not dug from soft beds of sand, but rather from the toughest stone—and he had indeed treated her like a precious jewel. Her marriage only lasted four years, ended by the sudden, devastating loss of both husband and infant son to the same sickness.

All traces of joy left her after that and she refused to take a new husband or allow a regent to rule in her place. Martharine was determined to remain queen until she saw fit to name an heir among the noble Houses of Gardford. They had practically tripped over themselves attempting to please her over the last two years, but she had decided on a far more useful way to settle it once and for all.

Nearly four months of careful planning were done. Now it was only a matter of transport. And dealing with some of her more reluctant supporters who continued their attempts to dissuade her.

"My Queen," her most trusted advisor began, the groundhog using careful tones as he spoke. "War is bloody business. It isn't a game to decide who is boldest—"

"I'm well aware of that," she said harshly. "My husband always expressed the desire to bring Cosium under his rule. I can achieve that dream for him. Are the Houses assembled?"

He cleared his throat in a way that betrayed his discomfort. "All the sub-Houses are done marshaling their forces, as are seven of the main Houses. Their heads are waiting in—"

She jerked around, blue eyes ice cold and fingernails digging into the arms of her chair. " _Seven?!_ Who did not heed my summons?"

The groundhog replied with regret, "Westdell and Darkband."

"Those blasted peace-lovers!" Queen Martharine barked out, kicking her footstool. It tumbled down the dais steps and crashed to the floor, two legs snapping.

"My Queen, it is their _right_ to refrain from war if you have more than half the Houses on your side. Prudent, even," he hurried to say. "While the majority of your forces are gone, their presence here could discourage other nations from deciding to take over our homeland."

The fury in her face lessened, though it did not entirely disappear. "I wish to speak with them all the same. Now leave me. All of you. I must discuss something with our informant."

The advisor paused long enough to earn a piercing glare from the queen. He then gave an acquiescent bow before exiting with the twelve members of her bodyguard.

A hedgehog stood stiffly beside one of the throne room's pillars, hands behind his back. Wearing the distinctive armor of a Coizard general, he had been removed of his weapons before being admitted to Queen Martharine's presence, but from what she knew about that people it was very likely he was a magic-user as well.

Which was why it was pure foolishness to be alone with him. She had no idea what his Element was, or if her own abilities with Fire would be protection enough. Still…

"What do you think, General Gast?"

"The lack of two Houses will hardly be a problem." His voice was deep, yet emotionless. "King Lugius has already agreed to your alliance, therefore the Rofakian army is more than enough to compensate for the soldiers who are remaining here."

"I cannot let them get away with blatant defiance," she growled, tail bristling. "Those chipmunks might as well be rats for all the use they are. I have a good mind to strip their titles—"

"Which might needlessly antagonize some of those who joined you but still have reservations. Better to deal with them once the war is over." He took a paper from an inside pocket of his uniform and held it out. "As promised."

There was hunger in her face as the indigo squirrel bounded down the steps and snatched it from his fingers. "This is it? The secret to crafting disguises no one can detect?"

He nodded. "There is some Blood Magic involved in the process, but once it is finished anyone can use the potion."

" _This_ will change everything for us," she said, nearly caressing the paper. Then her blue eyes swept back to his face, growing hard once more. "General, are you absolutely certain the Houses of your country will betray their own?"

"The _nobles_ ," he placed stress on the word to emphasize the difference, "have lost everything. They will relish the chance to repay the Royal family for what they've done as well as receive something in return."

"Good. I'll be counting on them once the war begins." One hand stroked the pommel of a jeweled dagger at her waist. "Do you really think I believe you're doing this for revenge too?"

He straightened even more, though it didn't seem possible. "I have my own reasons, Your Highness. Revenge is only one of them."

"Consider me curious. What is really driving you?"

"The primary reason would not make sense to your advisors and would probably make them less likely to trust me."

"Oh? Now I'm even more intrigued." She tilted her head to one side, but there was something dangerous in the way she leaned forward, as though depending on his answer she may or may not draw the dagger.

"Very well. I am forcing Cosium into a suicidal war because…" he paused, eyes narrowing into slits, "…I _**can**_."

" _That_ I believe," the queen of Gardford laughed suddenly. She released the weapon's hilt and flicked her wrist, making the bracelets jingle against each other. "I'm looking forward to working with you in the future, General Gast."

The dark brown hedgehog gave a formal bow and turned to leave, one hand automatically reaching up to stroke the two long scars marring the right side of his face. He had to return to Cosium in less than an hour. There was still much work to do.

* * *

Daylight had faded long ago, leaving nothing but lamps to illuminate The Golden Ring. Several dice games were in progress and a small group was celebrating a young man's birthday or some such thing. The barmaid carried a new flagon of ale to a small table nestled against the back wall. There were dimmer lights in that section of the tavern, making it hard to distinguish the patrons. It was the sort of place a man sat when he wanted to drink himself senseless in peace.

A gray hedgehog with jagged blue markings on his quills tossed out a pair of coppers as the barmaid set down his ale and she scooped them up so smoothly that they barely touched the table. She bobbed her head in thanks and left. His eyes sought out the young hegdehog across the tavern who was the center of attention, growing sad.

"You would be that age now, wouldn't you, Jace?" he murmured.

The hedgehog turned back, staring into the dark liquid for a time as memories and bitterness filled his mind. Just as he started to take a sip, a hand covered his flagon. He darted a scalding look at the one impetuous enough to interrupt him, but then his eyes shot wide.

"You!"

He lunged forward, but a sudden tight hold on his throat prevented him from going through with some half-formed notion of killing the stranger. He felt himself shoved forcefully back into his seat. No one in the tavern had noticed their interaction above the raucous laughter and late-night singing of drunkards.

"Jaxom, in your current condition, attempting to attack me will get you nothing but a beating."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your _delightful_ company, Prince Rakar?" Jaxom growled, some of the words slurring from the effects of his earlier drinks. He rubbed his throat and gave a poisonous glare.

The other hedgehog pulled a chair from another table and sat down without waiting to be invited. "I haven't been considered a prince since the day my nephew was born, the same way you haven't been considered a baron since you lost your land."

A ferocious cast came over Jaxom's face. "I didn't _lose_ my land! It's still mine but I refuse to go back. My parents, wife and son were in the manor when those rioting maggots burned it down. I should have been there—he was only a boy! And what did those murderers get? A flimsy slap on the wrist!"

It wasn't exactly a "slap on the wrist", but Rakar fully agreed that limiting trade to them and having three squads of soldiers take up residence in the guilty villages for a single year was a punishment far less than adequate.

"If you think I had anything to do with it, you're wrong. I tried to keep Mortesen from breaking the power of the nobles, but he was too enthralled with his new queen and her whims to consider the possible consequences of his actions." He paused to meet Jaxom's resentful gaze. "That's why I'm here. I've been looking for you most of the day."

"What an _honor_ ," he replied, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

"You're outspoken, and for _some_ reason the other nobles listen to you. When you're not drunk, that is," Rakar added, darting a glance at the flagon of ale.

"Tell me something I don't already know."

The dark brown hedgehog leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as he folded his hands just below his chin. He looked as though he was attempting to barter with someone who needed the benefits of a business deal explained in detail.

"I have a plan to restore things to the way they once were. If all goes well, the nobles will regain their homes and stations as well as the power they once held over the peasantry. A trader from Gardford will find you two days from now. Listen to his proposal. That's all I ask. I'll meet you here again that evening."

Nothing but a sneer met the words at first.

"How interesting. I suppose if I agree to this plan, later I will be dragged away and locked up as a traitor." He picked up the flagon again. "Pardon the lack of enthusiasm, _my Lord_ , but I just don't trust you or your intentions."

Rakar grabbed his wrist, slamming the cup back down and dark crimson eyes flashing with impatience. "It was worth trying without having to force you into it, but you are too stubborn. _I am not laying a trap. You can trust me on this. Now get sober and stay that way until I come back._ "

The words struck deep as he planted them into the folds of Jaxom's soul. The former baron fell facedown on the table from spiritual weakness combined with intoxication. Without a backward glance, the king's brother left.

* * *

Rofaki being a military nation, there were depictions of battles on tapestries, urns and painted on walls all over the castle. In the throne room itself, busts of kings that were also great generals had been set on pedestals and long banners commemorating great victories hung below the windows, the most important ones fixed directly behind the king.

Several young people knelt quietly off to one side, heads bowed and wearing gray robes cinched with leather belts. A row of Lord-Commanders stood directly in front of King Lugius, each stern and professional. The highest-ranking one, a fallow deer with a large rack of blunt, webbed antlers, spoke to their liege.

"Our soldiers are all prepared to board the ships the moment you give the order. We can transport the bulk of your army on ten or eleven vessels if you do not care about crowding."

Sitting on his throne, the dark jackal responded, "I do not. We only have a short time available to land. Thanks to the intelligence we received from General Gast we know the merhogs of Atlantis are allied with Cosium. We'll be cut off without reinforcements until we succeed. Once we do, Atlantis must accept it and will have no reason to continue defending the shores of a conquered country against its rightful owners."

The group didn't blink, but there was something less tense about their postures. Knowing _why_ they were being commanded to pack as many soldiers as possible onto the ships made the chore easier to deal with.

The deer continued, "Our agents are in position. Every port town in Crescent has our people ready to set the fires."

"Do it," the jackal said, a rumbling laugh following the words. "I would like to see their faces when they realize how vulnerable they are to sabotage. Dismissed."

One or two of the Lord-Commanders cast unreadable glances at the gray-robed figures before leaving. King Lugius rose to his feet, his tall ears twitching slightly, then he stepped down to look at them. Each wore a metal slave collar etched with alchemic markings.

"Where did you get these wilders?" he asked the handler who was standing behind the six and holding onto their leashes.

"At the Lower Reaches training camp, my King. These are the most promising ones. I thought you might want to take some of them along."

The jackal observed them quietly for a minute, letting his Royal gift tell him their Elements and strengths. Finally he pointed at three.

"Those two Lightnings and this Earth. I want them set up with individual handlers."

He paused, looking more intently at the Earth-wielding fox in front of him, her fur a bright, lovely magenta. With the tip of one finger he tilted her face up until Lugius could see her robin's-egg blue eyes. She was perhaps fifteen years old.

"Then again, I'll be training this one personally. Put her in the kennels with my other pets."

"Lini is good?" the fox asked eagerly, a hopeful expression on her face.

"We'll see, Lini," he answered, patting her on the head like a puppy.

She gave a delighted smile before the thin chain attached to her slave collar tugged her away. King Lugius watched her go with a predator's eyes. Then his ears flicked back at the sound of a contemptuous snort and he stiffened. A collie stood in the shadows behind his throne, hidden by a set of banners, apparently having listened in on the proceedings without being noticed.

"That girl has no idea why you really set her apart," his wife said. Isolde's voice was imperial, sewn with threads of derision. "Such an embarrassment. You could at least _try_ to make it less obvious."

"You could at least give the impression of being jealous, Isolde," the jackal shot back, striding forward.

He was the taller, but the way she gazed at him made it feel as though they were equal in height. The blue satin dress was tightened with a corset and her thick ruff of long, silky fur draped down, practically inviting someone to run their fingers through it.

"Is my indifference really so painful to you? Lugius, even if you _had_ my affections, I very much doubt you would be content with them." Isolde grew more serious. "I did my duty. I've borne two daughters and a son by you. Now leave me in peace and I will not interfere with you and your _diversions_."

"Bloody woman," he growled. Without warning he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall. "I should collar you with the rest."

Rather than showing any sign of surprise or fear, the queen stared at him with a proud countenance.

"You may intimidate everyone else, but I've been married to you for over twenty years. There is no longer any way for you to threaten me without harming yourself in the process—physically or politically." He jerked away as her skin grew burning hot. "And I am _not_ one of your pets."

A confused mixture of hatred and desire mingled in Lugius's heart. She was the only woman he ever really wanted to love him, perhaps simply because of that refusal to be conquered. This collie would not be controlled—aggravating, impossible, beautiful…

Isolde sauntered toward the door, casting one final glance back at him. "Have your war. Come back or don't. It's all the same to me."

The king clenched his narrow jaw, teeth grating against each other as the door closed and he was left alone.

"Bloody woman," he cursed again.

* * *

Rakar entered the prison of an abandoned plague town. The whole place ought to have been empty, but instead housed a handful of Coizards he'd gathered there on various charges. It was purely lit by lanterns or torches since every window had been bricked up shortly after he started using it. After all, many of his experiments resulted in screaming.

A cougar soldier stood and saluted, but the hedgehog ignored him until he stopped in front of the first cell. "What happened here?"

The beaver inside lay on his side, scratching at the air with one hand, eyes empty. During his visit several days before, Rakar had tried to see what would happen if someone who was so filled with hatred and vice was forced to be nothing but virtuous.

"The day after you were last here something snapped," the cougar answered. "He wouldn't stop yelling nonsense and I had to drug him. He's been in this state ever since."

"So…trying to instill something inherently against their nature will make them go insane in less than a day. I suppose there's no point in keeping him anymore."

Rakar strode into the cell and touched him, using his Royal gift. The beaver convulsed as half his soul was stripped away, then a knife drove straight into his heart. Rakar wiped the bloodied blade on the dead creature's fur to clean it off and slid it back into the sheath with hardly a change in expression. He briefly touched a burning scar that appeared on the underside of his wrist as he exited.

It was difficult to affect a person's actions without affecting the soundness of their mind as well. If the instructions he'd implanted in Jaxom lasted too long or if the idiot tried too hard to fight them, either he would break free or they would break him.

"Dispose of that one, will you?"

"Yes, my Lord," the cougar answered in a voice that was devoid of surprise or pity. "There is only one significant change in any of the others—Vivienne the Wolf."

"The dancer who murdered her patrons and stole their valuables?" He paused to recall what he'd been doing to her. "I was trying to find out if I could make her see things that weren't really there. Did it work?"

"I assume so, my Lord. She gouged her eyes out."

Rakar made a noise of irritation in the back of his throat. "Aggravating. Now I can't use her to find a way to reverse it. I'll get rid of her later. What about the cat? Has he suffered any side-effects?"

"Not that I've noticed, my Lord. He doesn't act deranged; just frightened."

"Good. I'm glad he is responding so well. I was afraid I'd have to kill him too, and that would disrupt one of my more rewarding plans. Get a slave collar and chain. I'll be taking him with me."

The cougar left to obey and Rakar continued along until he came to one particular cell. A yellow cat with several brown stripes down his back was sleeping in the corner, a long chain securing him to the wall by his wrists. He bolted awake the moment the door squealed open. Farrell's eyes grew large at the sight of Rakar then he scrambled away, pressing himself against the far wall. It was a common response and the tormentor strode toward him with an air of a workman about his work.

"Please don't!" Farrell begged. "Not again… I-I'll do anythi—!"

Rakar grabbed the prisoner's shoulder, causing the words to cut off mid-sentence. He knelt, staring into wide green eyes and focusing intently on changing something rather than just giving instructions. When he let go a short time after, the soldier was waiting, collar and chain in his hands.

"My Lord, if you don't mind my asking, why are you so interested in this particular experiment? I've never seen you spend so much time on one captive."

"Because being able to control someone with a specific stimulus is far more useful than you can imagine. But it's easy to do too much at once and drive them mad by accident. It takes patience to do it right."

He walked across the cell and looked back at the cat who was beginning to recover from the lethargy that always accompanied the manipulation of one's soul. Time to test it now.

" _Remember your worst fears_."

Farrell cried out, collapsing into a whimpering heap as he unwillingly relived the most horrible moments of his life. After a minute of thrashing and pained cries he threw his head upward and furiously charged, only to reach the end of his chain a few inches from the object of his hatred. The sudden change in direction yanked him back and he fell to the cold floor, dazed. Above him the cougar leaped forward, raising a fist to punish him for the insolence, but Rakar stopped him.

Once the cringing captive realized he wouldn't receive a beating, he began to shout, " _Why?!_ Why do you keep doing this to me over and over and _over!?_ Why won't you tell me why I'm here?! I'm innocent! I never did anything to deserve this!"

"A murderer deserves no punishment?" the hedgehog asked, finally stating the charge against him after a month of imprisonment. "You're very funny."

Farrell's face screwed up in confusion. "What? I'm no murderer."

"An arsonist too."

Understanding dawned on him at last and he pushed himself backward, breathing hard and unwilling to take his eyes off the hedgehog. "Th-That was eight _years_ ago! It wasn't me—I didn't do it!"

"The dead are still dead and you are the one responsible. You are just _beginning_ to serve your sentence." Rakar made an offhand gesture, beckoning the cougar forward. "Get that collar on him and give him some boots. He has a long way to walk if we're going to reach Seastone by tomorrow."

* * *

Mage-Master Briar sat across from the royal couple in the audience chamber. They had just finished discussing the possibility of Darren returning to the Academy in two years once his magic settled. Mortesen wasn't opposed to the idea, but Athena still felt it was too soon to make any decisions. She was more open to the prospect of tutors coming to Cosium to teach him and he had listed off several who could do the job well.

"You didn't have to come all this way just to make sure Darren got here safely," the dark-furred king added with a little laugh. "The apprentices who brought him home before seemed fairly competent."

"Oh, I've been looking forward to an opportunity to come here for quite some time, but Darren's home visits always seemed to conflict with my schedule. Now that I've stood on your shore, if anything goes wrong with him in the future I can teleport directly here to help."

Unconsciously both of them stiffened and the desert hare sighed.

"I had hoped the aversion wasn't so distinct here. Do not worry. I would never teleport anyone without permission, and if I did, it would be in an emergency only. I have years of experience behind me and no one has suffered any harm when I've done it in the past."

"Of course," the blue hedgehog said, though the straightness of her spine assured him she was anything but comfortable with the thought.

"Are you sure you don't know where Rakar might be? I had hoped to meet with him before I return with Darren tomorrow. It would be interesting to know how he as made use of himself since he decided not to stay at the Academy."

"So sorry, Master Briar, but he did say he'd be gone until next week," Mortesen smiled apologetically. "He keeps busy. When he isn't working on some new experiment in the potions room, he's doing everything he can to make Cosium safer. We have some disagreements on how exactly that should be done, but the country's welfare is always on his mind."

"Well," he started, rising to his feet with a creaky bow worthy of his age, "just let him know he always has a place at the Academy if he ever wants it. Now if you'll excuse me I have to make sure all my belongings are packed so that we can board the ship and be gone before dawn."

Once he had left the audience chamber, Athena shook her head. "I can't _believe_ he talked about teleporting live creatures as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I hope they have some sort of restraint when it comes to teaching that sort of thing to their students."

"I'm sure they do, love," her husband with a grin. "All the teleporters who come back from the Academy are extremely reliable—never once bringing up the subject of live teleportation. And I've never had any letters go astray."

At one time every village in Cosium had a resident teleporter hired by the barons so that letters could be sent in the blink of an eye, but since the breaking of the nobles' hold on the countryside, many of the teleporters had returned to their natural homes. Now it was mainly the larger towns where letters could be depended on to arrive and be sent.

"Yes, but just suppose Darren gets it into his head that he wants to try teleporting?"

"Athena, our son is sensible. He knows he's far too young to learn anything so advanced, not to mention all those stories of people winding up at their destinations with bones cracked to splinters and their heads twisted backwards aren't made up."

The hedgehog queen continued to look unsure. "But Master Briar acted as though he expected us to know it was safe. Why?"

Mortesen thought for a moment. "Maybe Rakar dedicated some focus to it during his time there. If so, I'm surprised he never said anything about it to me. It does seem like the sort of thing he'd find interesting. I'll ask him when he comes back from Seastone."

* * *

The Golden Ring was as popular as ever, with a dozen men gathered around the dice games and at least three girls with low-cut dresses slipping from table to table, creating conversation and encouraging patrons to drink. They avoided the back corner of the tavern as a rule, though. More often than not, interfering with the ones who sat there prompted furious insults and no extra coin.

Baron Jaxom sat in his usual spot, wanting so much to drink until he passed out—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Every time he tried to ask the barmaid for some ale, he wound up confusedly unable to do so and then angry because of the confusion. Finally Rakar's unwelcome voice attracted his attention.

"Having trouble drowning your sorrows?"

"Not as much trouble as I'm having trying to forget your ugly scarred face," he snapped.

"So unkind of you, Jaxom."

But the comment was made in a way that said he could care less what the other thought. Rakar tugged on a chain and the gray hedgehog was surprised to see a cat in a slave collar trailing behind him. It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone wearing one of those, especially since King Mortesen had restored an old law about slaves receiving their freedom after three years of servitude. Because of that, slavery had vanished from the kingdom practically overnight.

"Why the chattel?"

Rakar sat down. "Business first. You met the Gardfordian?"

"Yes. I listened to his proposal and gave no answer. Now I understand what you're up to." Jaxom folded his arms. "If you betray Cosium to the foreigners, do you really think our country will survive? I may hate your brother, Lord Rakar, but I'm still a patriot."

"Don't worry about that. If you get the other nobles to agree and follow my instructions _precisely_ , not only will Cosium win, but all of you will be praised as true heroes when you use your positions in their ranks to undermine them. You will receive everything you had before…with interest." Rakar's mouth hinted at a smile, but it was hard to be certain.

Jaxom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "This plan is sounding more intriguing all the time. I won't accept until I have a chance to discuss it with the others, though."

"Fair enough. I don't think it will be too hard to convince them. It's the only chance to return them to their rightful places. Make sure their families are in coastal cities like this one. They'll be safe here." Rakar gave the chain in his hand a quick jerk, causing the cat to stumble forward. "Now, tell the baron where you are from."

"…Ruatha," he said, keeping his eyes lowered.

"And you are the one who led the riot that killed his family, are you not?"

The cat was so tense that his limbs shook, making it pointless to answer. Jaxom had leaped to his feet and started to draw his dagger, but Rakar tossed the lead chain onto the table, surprising him into stillness.

"He's your slave now, so kill him or keep him as you please. But…" He took a paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table with two fingers. "This is a trigger phrase. If anyone says those exact words, he will experience the most traumatic moments of his life as if they were happening for the first time. I thought you might enjoy the diversion."

A glint appeared in the gray hedgehog's eyes. He turned to face the king's brother and bowed deeply. "Lord Rakar…you just earned my undying loyalty."

"Glad to hear it. You'll be receiving instructions from me soon."

The yellow cat stared after Rakar with pleading intensity, but he didn't even look back as he left. Jaxom took hold of the chain and read the paper, his face as impassive as a block of marble.

"What is your name?"

He swallowed. "F-Farrell Greeneyes, Baron."

"From now on you will call me your _master_ , do you understand?"

"Please!" Farrell begged, dropping to his knees on the floor. "Please let me go! I have a family—"

"A family?" the former baron snarled, yanking savagely on the lead chain so that Farrell choked. "So did I. _Once_."

* * *

 **A/N: Sometimes people just feel like it's more fun to torture the ones they hate rather than kill them. Don't worry. Farrell's part in this tale will become important in time.**


	3. The Invasion

_**Chapter 3: The Invasion**_

Fortifications had been built on the island centuries earlier and been abandoned numberless times due to earthquakes and subsequent flooding, as if the land itself was indecisive whether it wanted to be stable or not. What remained was an outdated relic in need of repair and barely able to keep visitors safe from rain.

Three light vessels were moored in the neglected harbor, one from Rofaki, one from Gardford, and the last from Cosium. The rest of the invading ships were already en route to their landing positions, and being overladen and slow meant it would not take long for these to catch up once business was concluded.

A chamber on the ground floor was converted into a rather welcoming reception room. Queen Martharine arrived a day earlier and her servants had done their best to outfit it with tapestries, carpets, and light Gardfordian-style furniture that could be easily packed and carried along as they traveled. Now King Lugius sat across from her, his fists beginning to clench as the squirrel's proposal struck him.

"A fifth," he repeated, staring at her incredulously. "I've doubled the invading force and you think Rofaki should get a _bloody fifth_ of Cosium?!"

She sat listening calmly, but there was a keen edge to the look she directed at the other monarch. "I'll overlook your coarse tongue this once because I suspect the prospect is less than desirable for you. I suppose you expected half the country once this war is over?"

"Blood and ashes, you bush-tailed thief!" he cursed, slamming one gauntleted hand onto the cherrywood table with enough force to leave a mark in the surface. "If my men give their lives to take Cosium, I want my share of the land they fought for!"

The squirrel queen stroked a bracelet—the silver-filigreed one she'd gotten on her wedding day. "Gardford has no natural resources aside from agriculture. I want the forests for lumber and the pastureland for livestock, but it's the mines and quarries I'm really after. Every single one."

"Oh?" Lugius growled in a less than friendly way. "Would you like the bloody Dark One to come polish your shoes while you're at it? Maybe we can find Karok and get him to do a flaming dance for you."

"Aren't you forgetting a few things?" Martharine said smoothly.

She adjusting her bodice just enough to show some cleavage. It made him annoyed because he knew she was using the gesture to distract him and he was not in the mood for ogling. Well, not _much_.

"Not only will you receive the distinction of having defeated the undefeatable Cosium, but you'll be taking slaves from any portion of the kingdom you like—slaves who can all use _magic_. You'd be foolish not to know how useful of a resource that would be for your country, especially since I imagine that's one of the primary reasons you've joined our campaign. Gardford has no interest in slavery, so they're all yours."

"Military prowess and slaves do not make up for that little scrap of land you want to leave me with," the jackal king insisted.

"Perhaps. But there's also the Cosmos Diamond."

Lugius went still, but his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What about it?"

"I'll take the majority of Cosium and you can have the slaves as well as the scepter, _plus_ your little scrap of land that includes the castle itself. Would that be agreeable?"

The king's features changed from furious to thoughtful. The green Cosmos Diamond was the only one that affected an entire country and gifted the citizens with magic. To have possession of it meant his own people would have that blessing as well. Greed crept into his face as he allowed himself to be persuaded.

"…Yes. I believe it could be considered a fair trade."

They exchanged the formal ceremony of agreement, the words coming a bit too eagerly from his mouth. The queen of Gardford continued to sit, curling a hand around her teacup as her thoughts mocked the monarch across from her.

The fool. Once this war was over she would finally reveal the truth that it took over thirty years of residing in Cosium before the Cosmos Diamond started affecting the commoners. If he took it from these shores, the power that had seeped into the very earth itself would dissipate within the first year. He would have no choice but to leave it in the remnants of Cosium, and then her own people who migrated from Gardford would receive the benefits without having to be part of his country. And by the time he figured it out, it would be too late.

"With that settled," she started, delicately clearing her throat, "now all left to do is manage our new allies. Carla, summon them."

The servant in the corner (a ferret bearing an unimpressive total of five bracelets on her arms) curtsied properly and exited, returning a minute later with several Coizards, all hedgehogs. There were only the two chairs, so they were left standing.

"We are quite pleased at your decision to assist us, Nobles," Martharine addressed them. "Tell me, what do you expect out of this?"

The foremost one, gray with blue markings scribbled along his quills, stood tall and proud as he answered, "Crush the peasants. Throw down the king. Then we want our homes back."

The jackal seemed to be considering. "I am not so certain it is useful to have these Coizards among my own soldiers. What if they are spies planning to betray us at the first opportunity?"

The speaker did not quite laugh, but there was amusement on his face. "King Lugius, if we did not want your people on our shores, it would be a simple matter to contact the merhogs. Your ships would never get even the chance to land. As for our uses, we know our people's own tactics, where troops are positioned, how to get you quickly from one place to another, and where you can station well-defended camps. It is an advantage no invader has ever had before."

He gave a slow nod. "Very well. How many of you are there?"

"Forty-three. More nobles have agreed to join us after the landing, but there are no certain numbers yet."

The indigo squirrel folded her hands in her lap, a sign of satisfaction. "It is acceptable. To keep news of your presence within our ranks secret, I will have your people equipped to disguise their species. I suggest none of you remove it unless there is absolute certainty no one will see."

Several other things were discussed before they departed to divide themselves by who would be landing in the east or west. Once the nobles were gone, Queen Martharine gestured to her lady-in-waiting. The ferret picked up a decorated oak box just barely large enough to fit in one hand, offering it to the king of Rofaki.

"You mentioned that your eldest daughter requested to accompany you on this venture," she began as he accepted it. "In my country it is customary to give a woman a bracelet on important occasions in her life. The conquering of Cosium certainly seems like one for her. I cannot wear this since I am the one who had it made, but she may find it fitting. Consider this a gesture of goodwill between our countries, and perhaps firmer relations through your daughter's marriage can be arranged after the war is over."

Lugius opened the box, instantly impressed at the workmanship of the bracelet with its braided links of bronze and red copper. On the centerpiece a tiny image of a castle was surrounded by rubies cut into various shapes of flames. Gardfordians always did love overt symbolism. He closed the box again with a snap.

"Lefae will be pleased to accept your gift. And I will see to it that once Cosium is beneath our reign, a proper bracelet rests on your arm in commemoration as well."

There were very few things he could have said that would make Martharine feel even a trace of guilt for cheating him, but this was one. Yet she managed to keep her composure, giving a gracious nod as their meeting ended.

* * *

Sunrise still an hour away, a filmy layer of fog drifted over the waters of Lionfish Bay. There was a bite to the air even though spring had taken its place in the world, but the fishing folk from the three villages there didn't pay it any mind. They had to go out in the boats during deep winter, so this was nothing to compare with that.

The eldest fisherman on the water that morning had his grandson along, and they were farther out than anyone else. The first cast yielded a modest catch, but a pair of lionfish had made it worth the extra effort of going out so far that morning. The old otter rubbed the back of his head where the fur had thinned to nothing, then threw the net in a second time while he spoke.

"Olver, why don't you hop in and try to chase some fish into the net. If there are more lionfish about, it will make…" He noticed his six-year-old grandson's eyes grow suddenly large. "Oh, come now! The water isn't nearly cold enough to be squeamish. What's wrong with you?"

"Pirates!"

He whirled around and saw it. The vessel was huge—a monster among ships! It came surging out of the mist like some nightmare and was then followed by others, all bearing down on their frail little boat.

They scrambled for the oars and barely avoided getting crushed. A minute after it passed, leaving them bobbing in its wake, the end of a heavy rope struck the bottom of the boat by their feet. Looking up, the balding otter saw a soldier on one of the other ships who was leaning over the rail to stare down at them.

"I strongly suggest you tie that to your little craft, old one. We have need of all the boats in this harbor."

Feeling he had no choice in the matter, he did so without a word of protest. Well, at least they weren't pirates. Pirates were certain trouble. Soldiers might mean something else. Not necessarily good, but not necessarily bad either.

The large ship towed them closer to shore before dropping anchor, then eight soldiers crowded into the fisherman's boat and two of them took the oars. His grandson pressed close to his side, trying not to look afraid, but unable to hide it whenever one of the stern strangers glanced at him.

Once at the docks, everyone got out except for the rowers, and they promptly returned to the ship for more of their comrades. Other fishing boats had been confiscated for this purpose as well and they could be seen carrying soldiers to all the towns in Lionfish Bay. Swords hadn't been drawn, but every single person from those ships had a hand on one as though expecting to use it.

The old otter could now see there was a total of five ships, all very large. It was difficult to guess how many hundreds or maybe _thousands_ of men were on them. Most he saw were squirrels, weasels and ferrets. The light armor they wore had a hint of chainmail around between the joints of their arms, and many of their chest plates were emblazoned with a red tree. Could these be…Gardfordians?

Before he could observe any more, one of the soldiers placed a weighty hand on his shoulder. "To the square, old one."

Silently obedient, he and Olver joined the growing number of townspeople who were herded to their village's center just up the hill from the docks. It filled quickly, mothers cradling their little ones in an attempt to comfort them and the men doing their best to keep from appearing anxious.

After sitting and waiting for nearly an hour while more and more of these strangers stepped ashore, one with the gold bars of a captain on his shoulder gave a signal. "The queen comes! Coizards, down on your knees."

All the soldiers stiffened into statues poised in salute after making sure the fishing folk had obeyed. Every eye was drawn to her figure as she stepped off the boat with several well-dressed attendants.

From his position on the ground, the fisherman immediately noted that she was a squirrel, though one unlike any he'd ever met before. Her tail wasn't thick and curled, but long and sinuous—almost rat-like—covered with a fine layer of bushy indigo fur.

She wore a foreign dress finely embroidered with dozens of different birds flying above castle towers, all knitted together by vines of silver-green thread. A simple diadem rested on her brow: that of a golden rose with diamonds dangling on either side. She hardly needed it to establish her station. The aura of majesty spread out from her in waves as she glided forward to survey the cowering townspeople.

Looking about at their village as though inspecting a prize mare, Queen Martharine gave an approving nod. "Very good. No blood shed and no futile resistance. It will be a pity once we have to fight for every step forward."

The old otter knew it was idiocy to say anything, but he could see some of the more hotheaded members of his hometown beginning to grow agitated. He stood and spoke before they could.

"Queen of Gardford, we have done nothing to your country. Why risk the wrath of King Mortesen for a mere fishing village?"

He felt steel hands twist the arms behind his back and a deft kick forced him to land on the hard-packed earth, kneecaps cracking painfully.

Queen Martharine's anger did not show in her body language. She stood relaxed, one hand stroking some of the many bracelets on her opposite arm, but there was something in her blue eyes that made him want to scurry back if the two soldiers hadn't held him in place.

"We are here to stay, fisherman. This place where we stand is no longer Cosium. I rename those waters Landfall Bay, and this little town… I think 'Fool's Tongue' will do."

All the people exchanged looks of disbelief. Renaming their home was akin to stealing away their identity. They didn't say a word, but every single one could feel anguish seeping into their bones. She couldn't simply wave her hand and erase their village's history!

"Do you know why I chose the second name?" Her voice was almost too sweet. "Cut his tongue out. Let him serve as an example for anyone who desires to question their new queen."

The fisherman went numb. Both guards shoved him down onto the dirt. Old as he was and useless as his struggles were, he fought all the same. One of the soldiers seized his jaw, twisting his head to one side and digging the fingers in so that he was forced to open his mouth. A knife flashed in front of his face and he let out a strangled noise—

Abruptly the hands released him. The old otter was so stunned that he didn't realize why for a moment. A second later he found his legs sinking into the ground.

Cries from the other townsfolk finally registered in his mind and he looked over, seeing Olver's wild eyes and a stormy brown glow flitting all over his body. The fright that had infected his grandson had also rippled out, creating a near-catastrophe. There were other children in the crowd who glowed as they screamed and wept in fear. Since nearly everyone who lived in this area was an Earth-wielder, the ground was in a state of complete upheaval as it hardened or cracked or dissolved. Several nearby houses started to collapse, their walls weakened in half a dozen different ways at once.

Pulling his legs out of what had become quicksand, the otter took hold of Olver and tried to guide the young one's magic back into something manageable. Several tense minutes passed as parents tried to do the same all over the square. Gradually the ground settled.

Two bodyguards had pulled Queen Martharine back to a safe distance. Her groundhog advisor stood at her elbow, nervous at the accidental display of undisciplined magic.

"My Queen, terrorizing common villagers will only hurt us. You must show them a firm hand, but this tactic will lead to disaster."

"We have the restraints, do we not?" she asked the head alchemist who had also accompanied her.

The flying squirrel nodded with some hesitancy. "Only enough for emergencies. And they do not work well on children. They are for controlling that which can be controlled. For the young who have no mastery, wearing the restraints would only make their magic rebound on themselves and result in death within a matter of days. I do not think you want the legacy of being a child-killer to precede you in this land."

Gardford's queen did not clench her teeth or lash out, but those around her could tell she was finding it difficult to control her temper. "I must be consistent. I cannot let the unfettered magic of _children_ decide how I deal with this unruly country."

"There can be a compromise," her advisor spoke up, his tone soft yet solid. "A punishment must take place and be precedent for the future, but it need not inspire a reaction of complete panic."

The long-tailed squirrel's eyes swept around the village once more, only this time they settled on the docks. It would take possibly all day to empty the ships of the first five thousand soldiers (the rest were landing in a different bay), but they were not what caught her attention. A pile of nets had been tossed to one side of the wooden walkway, several unlucky fish still struggling to get free.

Queen Martharine stepped forward, causing the villagers to shrink back. "I am willing to be a forgiving monarch. My purpose was not to frighten you, but rather to make it clear I will not tolerate any foolishness. The old one may keep his tongue, but my army needs supplies and this village will be the first provider. You shall fish for us and make travel fare. It is not slavery, but it is servitude."

The elderly fisherman looked down at his grandson and put a hand to the bruises forming on his face. Under the rule of this woman, was there a difference between the two?

* * *

King Mortesen swallowed, reading the message over and over, hoping somehow that he had misunderstood.

"It can't be…"

"I'm sorry, Sire," the soldier said. "I wish it weren't true."

The king dropped the paper and placed both hands against the table, the map of Cosium and its terrain carved into the wood at his fingertips. His eyes were fastened on Lionfish Bay in the southeast, close to the edge of Cosium. The nearest garrison was nearly forty miles from there. Not that they would be much help against that many enemy soldiers.

He hadn't even begun to consider a plan of action when the door flew open and another soldier came in, the rabbit's face drawn with a note of terror.

"I just checked the teleportation room and I found four more letters, my King."

Three of them were from areas near Lionfish Bay as other people reported seeing enemies, but the fourth was from a village on the northwest coast.

"I don't believe it!"

"Mortesen, what's happening? The servants are talking about some sort of attack," Athena said from the doorway. She strode inside, taking the letters from him and scanning their contents. Her mouth pulled into a tight line. "This…this is an orchestrated act of war."

"It can't be anything else." He straightened and faced the two soldiers, knowing he had to take charge of the situation. The appearance of control was often as reassuring as actually being in control. "Go to the garrison and call all the generals and captains here, then find some scribes and send them to me. I also want you both to contact all the resident teleporters we have. They'll be sending warnings out to every single village in less than an hour. I need to issue a call to arms and contact all ten garrisons."

They snapped to attention and saluted before rushing from the room.

Athena glanced after them, then touched her husband's arm. "The army isn't as large as it was under your father. Do you know how many troops we even have anymore?"

"I'll know soon. Well, at least Cosium has allies. However good I am with the sword, I'm no warrior and _certainly_ no general." His eyes continued to remain fixed on the map. "I can only hope this will be over soon. War is the last thing I ever wanted. It's why I tried so hard to make treaties."

Athena was as upset as her husband, but she tried to show it less. He cared too much sometimes. She knew he wanted to send all his troops to bear against these invaders, but he couldn't do that without proper planning. The people had to wait. As painful as she knew it was to him, the outer edges of Cosium were lost. For now.

* * *

Vira's Port was a decent size with several islands off the coast and a wide bay. All Rofaki's ships were able to dock, the soldiers flooding into the large town and dragging everyone out. Taken by complete surprise, there was no attempt to even flee. The families were too concerned with trying to keep together as they were cuffed and corralled.

King Lugius glared at a peasant who didn't scramble past quickly enough. His daughter stood at his side, a dark-furred collie very much like her mother. All the peasants were being filed in front of them as they stood in the square.

"What a useless rabble," he grunted sourly.

"What did you expect, Father?" she asked, eyebrow raised. The princess wore her new bracelet with a certain amount of pride. "We're on the very outskirts of the country. There will be stronger magic-users as we move inward. Each one we catch will be one less for them and one more for us. Within a month we'll have more than enough to take over the entire kingdom without needing Queen Martharine's forces."

"She is dividing King Mortesen's attention so that we have the time we need to train them, therefore her presence is useful." He turned toward her slightly, still keeping an eye on the people. "What of the supplies for the slaves?"

Princess Lefae permitted herself a small smile. "Not to worry. Everything was transported properly. The handlers are taking care of it as we speak. I brought along four potion masters who are also alchemists so that we do not have to rely completely on what we brought from Rofaki."

The king and his daughter turned to look at a young woman at the same time.

"Nature."

"Not as strong as the ones we brought, but still fairly good," Lefae added.

The woman, a shaggy gray bear with a white splash on her chest, stared at them wide-eyed as a soldier seized her arm. A collar was around her neck less than a minute afterward. She begged to know what she had done wrong but was given no answer as the soldier led her away, her family calling frantically after.

Rofaki was known for cultivating the Royal gift known as "Magic Delving" to such an extent that it surfaced every generation or two. Lugius had also passed on his Wind Element to Lefae, though she took far more interest in using the slaves than practicing with her own magic.

"The first of many," Lugius murmured with satisfaction. "I'm looking forward to this war, Daughter. Magic is the reason no one has ever beaten Cosium before, and now their advantage will be turned against them."

* * *

Two days after news came from Lionfish Bay and Vira's Port there were still reports coming in. Things were growing violent in some places while in others whole villages fled inland. The garrisons closest to the landing points were already beginning to harbor refugees who sought their protection, but there was only so much room. It wouldn't be long until they had to start turning people away.

Mortesen crumpled the letter into as small a ball as possible and threw it on the floor just as another hedgehog entered his study. Rakar's gaze traveled from it to his brother's tense face.

"Bad news?"

"What was your first clue?" Mortesen growled.

Rakar retrieved the letter, smoothing it out just enough to recognize the seal at the bottom. "Emeralias?"

"It's their regent. Devilish calls himself a king even though Ruby is the rightful heir, but the laws of succession in Emeralias are as fluid to him as dishwater. Oh, he doesn't deny we have a treaty with his country, but then he goes on to say that he cannot send any of his citizens to a war that is not on Emeralian soil because it is of no real benefit to him."

Rakar couldn't keep his surprise from showing. "Quite blunt of him. Clearly he doesn't mind insulting you."

"I don't like the fact that he's taken over everything there and imposed martial law, but of course we can't do a thing about it. Hopefully once Princess Ruby is old enough, she can take the throne from him. Devilish has only been ruler for a year and if this is how he acts, I'm glad he's across the sea from us."

"I'm not so sure you could trust anything he offers us without checking for poisonous snakes first," Rakar agreed.

The king shook his head with a sigh, returning to the other letters on his table. "I wouldn't worry so much except that three other members of the joint alliance have already said they can't help. All the ships in Crescent were burned, so they're unable to send anyone and they expect to be attacked any day now. Cliffhorn is still recovering from their five-year war. And there have been raids all along the western reaches of Faldara. So strange… The hinterlands have been quiet for years. What could have riled them so much that they started attacking the _entire_ Faldaran border?"

"Could be anything. Those savages never do talk before they attack."

He was well aware that slaughtering the hinterlanders' sacred flock of silver-wool sheep owned by the chief's own daughters would spark such a response. It was a simple matter to plant a little 'evidence' pointing at a Faldaran culprit. The raids would continue until the hinterlanders felt they had caused as much damage as they could safely get away with, then at some point they would melt back into their deep mountain forests and pretend nothing had happened.

Rakar listed off their other allies on his fingers, "I suspect the Ice Empire's aid will be limited since it is getting into spring now and most of their soldiers have great difficulty in warm climates. Ayortha may not be able to do more than send healers and supplies since they need their army at home to discourage their aggressive neighbor from taking advantage. As for the individual allies Cosium has, Rorais bats are more suited to subtle tactics rather than warfare, and Atlantis is of no use at all to us except for keeping away more enemy ships."

"You seem to have already analyzed the assistance we can receive." Mortesen leaned against the table as though it took great effort not to sink down to the floor. "It seems Cosium must fight most of this battle by herself. I wish I knew why the Gardfordian and Rofakian rulers haven't responded to my messages. If we could just learn what their demands are, maybe I could find out why they're attacking us in the first place and we can come to some sort of understanding."

"What reason did _any_ nation have to attack us over the centuries?" Rakar asked rhetorically.

"I know, I know…but I had hoped with the alliances we formed that it would deter this kind of thing from now on. They chose such perfect timing that none of this can be chance."

"Perhaps," Rakar said with a measured tone. "Brother, you spent years making those treaties. At the first sign of serious conflict, none of them are able to render any useful aid. It does feel like you wasted your time."

"Poor circumstances is not a result of wasted time, Rakar."

"And what about the commoners?"

Mortesen continued to stare down at the map without answering.

"I overheard some of the generals talking. Did you really _request volunteers?_ " Rakar's hands clenched as his brother still remained silent. "Mortesen, you shouldn't have to ask. They are your vassals, bound by duty to answer a call to arms. If the barons were still in control of all the villages, our army would have thousands more recruits right now."

"…I refuse to force them," he finally said. "The commoners are usually the first to die in battle, and I know from reading old reports during our grandfather's last war that they made up most of the casualties."

Rakar shrugged. "It's helpful to balance things out. Peasants are reminded of their station and there are less of them to take advantage of the weakened military afterward."

The king twisted around, staring at his brother with such a livid expression that Rakar backed away. "Did you _really_ just say that? Are their lives of so little worth that you toss the idea of death about as if it's the solution to a _rodent problem?_ "

"That's not what I meant."

"That's how it sounded," the black hedgehog snapped. "I hate this business—all of it! If they wanted to attack, why not just come straight to the castle and try to overrun us? Why land on the very farthest borders of Cosium? They'll be forced to cross difficult terrain to get here, and from the reports we've been receiving over the last forty-eight hours their armies together are less than thirty thousand men. I've never heard of a war waged on us that was less than _fifty_ thousand. Something about it stinks like last month's fish, but I just can't figure out what! Why can't things ever be simple?"

Rakar carefully avoided saying anything that might reveal he knew more than anyone else. He doubted Mortesen had used truth-telling directly on him in years, but he wasn't about to take any chances when his brother was this stressed. So instead he changed the subject without making it clear that's what he was up to.

"Maybe you should have paid more attention to your lessons when we were young."

The dark hedgehog groaned. "It wasn't about not paying attention and you know it. I'm no tactician! I have no gift for strategy and battle formations and anything else remotely related to war. I just want my people safe. I always assumed I would have the generals to take care of those things."

"Neglecting one vein of your country's lifeblood in favor of others can still lead to disaster."

Before Mortesen could answer, his wife opened the door. "The Rorais arrived a few minutes ago. They must have flown all day and night to get here so quickly."

The three of them hurried to the audience chamber. Athena had had very little interaction with the Rorais bats since her husband visited their country and they rarely came to Cosium Castle. They had been allied with Cosium for close to a hundred years now, but negotiations could be irritating at times because they were sticklers for tradition.

Five bats waited solemnly for the king to appear, and when he did they all swept him elaborate bows, cloaks swishing.

"Well met, Mortesen Windspeaker, King of Cosium," the foremost one said with respectful resonance. His fur was a soft silver-gray but his wings were paler.

"Well met, Glut Whitewing, Mouth of Rorais," Mortesen replied formally. It was important to recognize the bat's station in the proper manner since he was considered the voice of their king as long as he was in Cosium.

"My liege sends his assurance that the invaders will not be long in this country now that we are here." Glut bowed again, wings arching in a fan-like arrangement above him. "I have brought with me four squadrons and you can expect four more in a week. We can be your scouts, your messengers, your eyes at night, your spear from the sky, and anything else you may require."

"Thank you. There are very few of my people who are flight-capable, and none of them can compare to the speed and stealth of the Rorais."

Glut didn't bother to hide his pride at such words, and Athena could clearly tell he was preening. She certainly wouldn't have chosen to speak so highly of them before they had proven themselves.

"Within a month I'm sure Gardford and Rofaki will turn tail. No one can defeat the Coizard army," the white bat said almost breezily.

They agreed to meet the generals in an hour to discuss how best to utilize the Rorais, then Glut left to take care of his squadrons. Athena watched him leave, noting the way he strode with head raised high as though parading in front of an audience.

"You were quite flattering with that one. Any particular reason why?"

"My father told me repeatedly that the only thing a Rorais loves more than its own reflection is being complimented on it," the black hedgehog shrugged. "They also have a weakness for anything that glitters, so chances are very good we may have to display the royal jewels to them a few times to keep them happy."

"When was the last time they aided anyone during wartime?" she wondered.

"They defended our grandfather during the war before he died, nearly forty years ago," Rakar said. "The Rorais were the best scouts we had. I'm certain they are trustworthy, even if they do act rather…conceited."

The queen hoped so. In her experience those with an overabundance of pride were often not as dependable as they would lead everyone to believe.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Now we begin to see the true colors of our antagonists. I really didn't want to include the landing itself, but it felt important to see the process and especially from the perspective of the people.**_


	4. Just One Victory

_**Chapter 4: Just One Victory**_

The walk from Briny Bay wasn't long, but because Darren was so eager to be home it felt like five hours instead of one. Unfortunately the merchant ship they'd taken to Cosium was too large and heavy to dock at the castle's shallow harbor and the crusty captain insisted he wouldn't make a special trip even for a prince.

Mage-Master Briar walked beside him, going over lessons and exercises Darren had heard so many times that he could repeat them back word for word. The castle grew larger with every bend in the road until they were in Cosium Town itself. He barely kept the spring out of his step, being greeted by the occasional shopkeeper and recognizing his favorite places.

They walked slightly uphill along the crowded thoroughfare, past three fountains, then reached the gate. Two soldiers stationed there nodded cordially to the young prince, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Darren looked up, surprised as Mage-Master Briar offered him the small pouch around his neck. He accepted it, eagerly reaching in to pull out the vial.

"If you ever need more, send a message to me," the old hare said. "I don't want you attempting to make that potion on your own until you're far more experienced. And Master Verin said no more than _two_ drops a day. Understand?"

He nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"Then I shall take my leave. I must return right away. Give my regards to your family, Prince Darren."

The Nature mage strode toward the small building outside the castle for teleporting letters, vanishing out of sight and—a minute afterward—presumably from the continent. Darren carefully replaced the vial in its pouch and tied the cord around his neck before stepping through the gate. Only then did he notice what a rush everyone seemed to be in. They didn't run, but they all seemed so intent and serious.

Two weeks earlier news came to the Academy that invaders had landed in Cosium, but it felt more like something out of old tales and history lessons. It didn't seem real. Invasions and wars were things that happened in other places…not _home_.

Darren started toward the main entrance of the castle, but spotted his father with Captain Alexei at the edge of the training yard. Excitement sparking, he ran to them only to stop a few feet away when he heard the skunk speaking in a belligerent tone.

" _ **No!**_ I'm Captain of the Guard. My duty is watching over the Royal family. I'm a warrior—a trainer— _not_ a field commander!"

"Even Rakar thinks you're a good choice, Alexei," the black hedgehog insisted, sounding more tired than Darren had ever heard him. "I need captains out there I can trust. Five more vanished since last week. Their soldiers are wandering around without leaders and the lieutenants are almost as lost. Our people are being driven back and there is no organization to the retreat."

"What about the general from Eskel Garrison?" he asked, hoping anyone else could take the job.

Mortesen clenched his jaw. "It was overwhelmed yesterday. We received a hasty note teleported during the attack."

Alexei froze. " _All_ of them? What about the civilians they were protecting?"

"There's been no news. They've been hitting all the outposts hard and fast, absolutely destroying our men. I don't know if they're captives or dead. Alexei, if we could have just _one_ victory…it might change things. Even for morale."

"Please, my King," there was something desperate in the skunk captain's voice now, "I may have taken lessons in tactics, but I am not qualified to—Prince Darren?"

The young prince jumped, so intent on the conversation that he'd forgotten everything else. Mortesen turned to look behind, offering a tense smile that felt more as though it was given out of obligation than sincerity.

"Hello there, Son. I'm glad you're back. Ben and Kaze are in the garden with your mother. Why don't you go join them?"

Darren continued to stand there, almost expectantly, but after his father returned his attention to Alexei, the young hedgehog shuffled away. Had he really thought he'd receive a more welcoming response? Or that his father would realize something was different?

In the gardens a similar scene was playing out. The queen faced a white and blue mink wearing a uniform that had the Coizard colors, but the style was foreign. Benonic and Kaze were nowhere to be seen, though.

"I have gathered two hundred troops and you can expect at least five hundred more in a few weeks once they're better-trained."

But Athena looked distraught. "Please no, Gawain. You and the others are all there are left of my people. I don't want you getting yourselves killed in a war that should be fought by the Coizard army."

The stranger's posture changed slightly, growing rigid as though he had been insulted. "With all due respect, my Queen, you and your husband rescued us. The most ungrateful thing we could do is abandon the country that freed us and gave us a home."

Darren suddenly realized this mink must be from Marcuriana, the northeast territory set aside for any of his mother's people who had nowhere else to go since Marcuria was conquered and reestablished as Daventry years before he was born. More than half of the people had been bought from their captors by the queen herself and the rest found their way to Cosium one way or another. His mother tended to deal with them personally, considering that territory the last slice of her homeland rather than part of Cosium.

Athena hesitated. After a minute she gave a reluctant nod. "I won't deny you the opportunity to defend Cosium, but I want them to be a reserve force for now. Stay in Marcuriana and train your soldiers. If we need them then I will send word."

"Thank you, my Queen," the mink said.

He dropped to his knees and kissed her hand almost reverently before striding from the gardens. As he walked past the black-furred prince, Athena's eyes lit up.

"Darren!" his mother cried, rushing forward to enfold him in a loving embracing that reminded him why he missed home so much. She pulled back to gaze at his face and then suddenly seemed confused, a little furrow appearing between her eyebrows. "Wait… You look different…"

Darren grinned, finally pulling glasses out of his pocket and holding them up proudly. "Mama, I don't need to wear them all the time anymore."

Athena's mouth popped open in delighted surprise, turning into a smile. "Well good! The way you and your brothers play always seems to result in having to replace them every month. Is it a spell?"

"Master Verin gave me a potion. She said if I use more than two drops a day it could damage my real eyesight. But it lasts almost all day long."

She ruffled his head spikes good-naturedly. "I think your papa will be so surprised!"

Darren's grin faltered and he suddenly stared down at his shoes. "He didn't even notice, Mama."

The disappointment on his face was painful to her. "Sweetheart, he has a lot on his mind. People are dying all over Cosium. He wants to protect them so much that he doesn't pay much attention to anything else."

"I know that…but I just wish he would see me once in a while…"

Before she could reassure him that Mortesen did care and would do anything for him, overjoyed cries came from behind. Kaze shot out of the sky and Benonic rushed in from the arbor. They tackled their little brother and probably would have broken his glasses if he'd been wearing them.

"What's wrong with your face?" the crown prince wondered immediately, earning a punch in the shoulder.

"Queen Athena," a small, feminine voice interrupted them. "I-I brought your tea. Where would you like me to put it?"

Darren suddenly stared. Her blonde hair was long and smooth, gathered back with a pink ribbon just a shade or two darker than her fur. The last time he'd seen her, tears were rolling down her cheeks as she thanked his mother endlessly. Eliza. She'd been pretty then…she was more so now.

Determined to look and act older than five, the young prince pulled himself straighter and nodded to her formally. But Eliza seemed to be avoiding his eyes as Athena directed her to the nearby table and asked her to bring another cup.

The head servant, a green raccoon with yellow stripes along her tail, watched critically. When Eliza started back toward the castle she pulled her aside and murmured something that sounded like a reprimand, or maybe it was a lesson. A spare teacup appeared from the raccoon's apron pocket and she took it, rushing back to set it down on the table.

The ebony hedgehog sat down as she poured the tea, trying to act more relaxed than he felt. She still hadn't looked at him. Was there something wrong? Was it his Third Eye that bothered her? It took great willpower not to cover it because he knew that would only draw more attention.

On the other hand, Eliza felt humiliated. Her hair was damp from when the ends had trailed in dishwater earlier, there was a spot on the corner of her apron, and she hadn't thought to bring an extra teacup herself just in case. He must think she was an absolute fool, especially with the way he sat so tall, almost haughtily. And he wouldn't stop staring at her!

She hoped he didn't remember what happened the year before. It was embarrassing enough that she was so disheveled at his first sight of her after more than six months. Maybe if Eliza acted as though she didn't remember him, he would stop gazing at her.

It was a very uncomfortable morning for each of them.

* * *

"Scouts say it's a force of about three hundred soldiers trying to entrench themselves down there near the dry creekbed," the gray rabbit said. Lieutenant Guinevere spoke in a formal, respectful voice now, but he'd seen her give soldiers a glare that could rust good iron when they were too free with their words.

"But why?" Alexei wondered, staring at a sketched map of the area. He had been skirting the edges of the area where the Rofakians were encamped, gathering small groups of soldiers scattered here and there. "The main force is leagues from here. Did these break off just to dig a hole?"

"Maybe they're planning to make this spot a supply post," she suggested.

The Captain of the Guard looked at lines depicting the surrounding hills. There were three main avenues to the south and east, so it wasn't a far-fetched idea.

"If they're making a supply post, we need to stop them before they complete it. Order the men to form up. We'll be attacking in two hours."

She saluted and left the tent with her companion. It wasn't so many years ago that Queen Athena had insisted on allowing females to enlist in the army, though it had certainly thrown things into disarray for months. When the idea had first been proposed, most of the generals and captains had been infuriated. After the most vocal one of them had expressed himself, Mortesen's only response had been, "If you insist on forbidding to train willing, passionate women who wish to defend their country, you are free to speak with my wife. I promise to give you a good burial once she lets me take your head down off the pole."

They stopped trying to dissuade him after that, though it didn't keep them from complaining.

Still, having someone as competent as Guinevere and the other women who had joined made it somewhat worthwhile now. Whenever it was time to make or break camp, things were done in an orderly fashion without much of the dithering he'd grown familiar with over the years. They simply had a better head for the natural organization of the camps, not to mention they had taken over cooking duties without being asked. It was nice to eat something better than barley slop and the usual army rations.

Of course the women's tents were separated and they continued to train apart from the men, but that was proper. The rule in his camp went that no woman was permitted to go anywhere without at least one of her companions. The last thing he needed to deal with right now was some idiot trying to force his affections on one of them, and it was less likely to happen if they were in pairs.

"We've _got_ to take this. Just one victory…"

Inspecting the quick sketch from one of the Rorais scouts, Alexei could see the Rofakians were in the process of building a fortification, hemming themselves into a corner of the valley. They couldn't possibly get out, but the position was well-protected by the land's natural shape and the uphill climb any attackers would have to suffer to reach it.

The one weakness he could see was the fact that they had not yet completed the wall. A wide space at the very center sat there like the gap in an old man's teeth. Once they finished that, the cost to capture the place would be much higher. They couldn't even wait for nightfall if they wanted to take advantage of it because their enemies had been working feverishly to get it filled.

Alexei's force was three times their number and he had the element of surprise. They _had_ to secure this area. If the Rofakians got much farther into Cosium they would reach the paved roads, then their march toward the capitol would be quicker. _Much_ quicker.

He looked at the figure of a wolf curled in the corner by his cot. Eoduin gazed at him, blinking her large, unreadable eyes. Alexei called her name softly, kneeling down, and his Mystical padded over, nosing his hand to encourage him to scratch her ears.

"I know you want to remain with me, but I can't have you upsetting the horses and I don't want anyone to hurt you by accident. We're going to attack the invaders. Stay far away. It will be dangerous."

She gave him a reproachful look and it almost felt as though she were saying, _"Do you really think I'm going to let you ride into danger alone?"_

Alexei held her head gently between his hands. "Please, just stay away."

Two hours later as he rode his horse to an outcropping that overlooked the valley, he could feel Eoduin a short distance behind. Lieutenant Guinevere and her fifty women were with him. They had agreed to follow his orders and he wanted them in the very rear, only to move forward if it became absolutely necessary.

Forcing himself to ignore the Mystical, he watched the foot soldiers advancing below. They kept low to the ground, using folds in the terrain to mask their movements, mainly the empty creek itself. There were about thirty yards of open land between his men and the fortification now. No protection whatsoever.

Alexei's heart raced. He hated this part.

Together, ten units of cavalry charged out of the trees and up the bank. Rofaki soldiers in the process of moving rocks to fill in the wide hole in their structure dropped everything and ran as the thundering hooves came racing toward them. They were all behind the wall in two minutes, then the expected defense began. Arrows flew.

The captain held his steed's reins in a death grip as the first Coizard fell. The horses were fully armored, but they screamed as arrows pierced them despite their defense, accompanied by the cries of their riders. Closing his eyes would have been preferable, but he'd sent them to their deaths. He had a responsibility to watch them die.

The first wave lost half its members, beginning to hurl fireballs as soon as they were close enough to the wall, then the second wave that came directly on their heels—the mounts each carrying two riders—only lost about ten of its members before they made it and joined in the combat. Sounds of hand-to-hand fighting were distant and faint, but Alexei couldn't help being surprised they had managed to reach the enemy so quickly. Perhaps the number of dead would be far less than he'd expected.

Only a few arrows fell among the third wave as it surged forward on foot, then the fourth and fifth took advantage of the lull to follow. They were each supposed to stay back longer before going forward, but if things were going well then he didn't see why they should wait.

"It seems they are already swarming the place," Guinevere said with relief. "I didn't think it would be so easy."

Her words made him pause. It _was_ easy. Alexei leaned forward, staring intently. There had been far too few defenders. He had hardly seen any opposition. Weren't there supposed to be three hundred? He'd only seen fifty at most manning the walls. Now his soldiers were trying to funnel into that hole in the wall. The attempt crushed them together like rats in a pipe.

He gasped, seeing it at last. "A trap—it's a trap! Signal the fourth and fifth waves to fall back! Signal a full retreat once they're clear. If they all rush at the same time, the infantry will be left behind and have no protection."

One of the women lifted a hunting horn to her lips and the signals echoed across the valley. Uncertain movements rippled through the ranks. They couldn't see anything wrong, so some ignored the command, continuing to press on. Most of them obeyed, mercifully.

The fourth and fifth waves were nearly to the creek bed when the earth under their feet heaved. Large holes opened in the ground, spewing out enemy soldiers. Completely unprepared for this tactic, the men panicked, and those who could escape ran for the trees while most fled back toward the rest of the army. The ones who stood their ground were quickly overwhelmed by a force much larger than what the scouts had reported.

"Tunnels along the perimeter!" Alexei shouted, his horse dancing to one side nervously. "They'll cut the army off—sound the retreat!"

Mayhem swirled in a pattern of death as Rofakian archers appeared from the tunnels next, firing into the packed Coizards trapped on open ground. Flashes of light began to play between soldiers as his men suddenly seemed to remember they could use magic. Lightning and fire spat from both sides. A lieutenant gathered the remaining cavalry into an arrowhead shape and they flew forward, punching through the closing ranks of Rofaki soldiers. That new gap allowed hundreds of infantry to get away before it was too late.

Alexei stayed in his position long enough to be sure there was no way for the rest of the Coizards to escape, only then wheeling his horse toward the women who waited for him a short distance back. Several other soldiers had arrived, worriedly urging them to fly before the enemy got too close.

He gestured for them to go and they kicked their horses into a gallop. Alexei caught up within a minute, passing the two rearmost riders. His mind was so taken up by the disaster behind them that he didn't see the dagger until it nearly reached him.

His horse let out a shrieking neigh as the reins jerked its head back so far that it skidded to a jolting halt. The two soldiers pulled up as well, circling back as they drew their swords. Alexei stared at them in confusion, but he seized the hilt of his own weapon.

Before he could pull it free, fire sprang to life beneath his horse's hooves, causing it to shy and buck. He needed both hands to stay on and try to guide it away from the growing flames. There was no way he could use his Lightning either—not with any amount of accuracy. They were about to attack him when a gray form darted from the trees with a wild howl that spooked all three mounts.

Eoduin's jaws caught one of the enemy riders by the leg, making him cry out. His steed was so terrified that it leaped to one side, colliding with its companion. Both horses tumbled to the ground, one of them crushing its rider. Moments later they bolted from the scene, saddles empty.

Alexei's hands sparked as he shouted at his Mystical to get back, but she continued to tear at the soldier's leg. He was riding towards them when Eoduin uttered a pained yelp. Fire clawed its way along the fur of her face and the soldier shouted, "Filthy beast!"

It seemed as though the world slowed to a crawl… Eoduin blindly swung her head side to side trying to free herself of the flames. The traitor slipped a dagger from some hidden place in his armor. And Alexei realized with a terrifying surge of panic that he couldn't make it in time.

As the blade plunged into her heart, the skunk cried out. He threw himself from his galloping horse directly onto the enemy at the same moment he felt the beautiful, vibrant pulse of Eoduin's life die within him.

Lightning surged through his hands directly into the soldier's body. A loud cry erupted from his chest and Alexei kept sending waves of electricity into him long after the look of pain in his victim's eyes went dull. Sparks of lightning crackled and arced around him, but he had no idea how long it was before voices broke through the haze of rage. Once they did, he realized he was gripping a black, smoking corpse.

"Captain!" one of the soldier-women called from a safe distance.

He ignored them. His eyes had fastened on Eoduin and he reached out to touch her still form.

"We have to go! The Rofakians will be here any minute!"

He didn't reply. All he could think of was the dead, hollow space…an earthquake splitting his soul…

" _Captain!_ " someone shouted in his face. Vaguely he was aware that it was a rabbit, Lieutenant Guinevere. "Do you think your Mystical would want you to die now? What about your wife?"

The words pierced the cloud of denial slowing his mind. She was dead…he had to leave or he would die too. And then who would take care of Trina and the little ones?

"Help me," he rasped.

Guinevere hefted him up by the armpits, but he couldn't seem to find any strength to walk. One of the other women helped her load him onto a horse, then she mounted behind and took the reins. He continued staring back long after the dead Mystical was out of sight.

* * *

A pale orange hedgehog lay on the battlefield, an arrow embedded in his shoulder. The force of it had knocked Prydain nearly unconscious and blood loss had kept him unable to move until long after he realized the sounds of fighting around him had ceased.

A trap… It had been a trap all along… That idiot polecat… Why had he thrown every single soldier at it in a full-on frontal assault?

Glaring sunlight made him feel as though he was being baked, too bright to let him open his eyes even if they hadn't been screwed shut in pain already. Blood leaked throughout his armor, soaking his fur and puddling underneath to turn earth into mud. Maddening thirst consumed most of his thoughts and he didn't even have the strength to brush away the battalion of flies that buzzed around him, delighting in his misery. For what seemed like hours all he could hear were groans of the wounded or dying. He had no doubt they were mostly Coizards.

Footsteps approached, pausing every now and then. Low words were exchanged, there'd be a startled cry from one of his comrades, and the people would then come a little closer to where he lay. Finally they were near enough for him to understand.

" _Tch._ Gut wound. Well, he wasn't very strong anyway. Cut his throat."

The speaker had a careless tone, his voice deep and commanding. Someone tried to protest, but the sound broke off instantly as he died. Bootfalls came so close to Prydain that he suspected the Rofakian was standing an inch from his nose.

"This one's still alive. How interesting," he said, sounding pleased. "A Light-user, and exceptionally strong too. Very rare. Heal him."

There wasn't even time to wonder how the stranger knew his Element before someone grabbed the arrow in his shoulder and wrenched it free. A loud cry jerked from the orange hedgehog's chest at the overwhelming pain, then there was the sudden sensation of being dunked in ice water that made him gasp. When it passed, the pain was gone and Prydain opened his eyes to squint upward.

A jackal wearing a crown stared down with an aura of victory, several Rofakian soldiers and gray-robed people around him. "Collar him, then I want him placed with the ones going to the main camp. Once he's properly trained he'll be quite useful."

Collar? _'Trained'?!_ Searing anger filled him and the hedgehog tried to attack, but their king pressed a heavy foot down on his chest until one of the others placed a slave collar around his neck. He shuddered, feeling his connection to magic cut off at once. There were dozens of his comrades chained nearby and he could see many more lined up beside the fortifications that had lured them into this ambush.

King Lugius gave a contented sigh as he surveyed the battlefield strewn with blood and bodies, crows beginning to gather at the edges to gorge themselves. "Almost two hundred so far. A profitable day indeed."

One of the gray-robed people pulled him up with more consideration than he expected. He may have been healed, but there was no strength in his limbs. If not for the supporting shoulder of the squirrel holding onto his lead chain, he wouldn't have been able to walk. Abruptly he stared at his helper in astonishment.

"Gavin?! What are you doing here?"

The other had a slave collar on, though he had no chain attached to it, but he looked up as though confused. "Matrim has heard that name before. Where…?" He seemed to shake it off. "Oh, do not worry, Wilder. Master will help you learn. Master helped Matrim. Now Matrim is no longer dangerous."

The Coizard prisoner stared. This was ludicrous. He _knew_ it was Gavin, a soldier from Eskel Garrison…but Gavin didn't even remember his own name. Why did he speak so strangely? What had they _done_ to him?

Prydain suddenly began to feel afraid.

* * *

Lieutenant Guinevere and her companion ducked inside the captain's tent after all the stragglers from the assault had returned. Alexei wasn't going over maps or trying to figure out what to do next. He was sitting on his cot, head in hands.

"I'm afraid we lost nearly half the men. The Rorais are watching the battlefield to check for survivors, but the Rofakians seemed to be taking many prisoners and…" She stopped, realizing he wasn't paying attention. Empathy filled her tone as she said, "I know what happened was hard on you. I understand."

"You really _don't_ ," Alexei muttered with a thread of savagery, not looking up. " _ **I**_ didn't. They warned me against bonding…said how much it hurt to feel them die. But I never understood. I thought I could deal with it."

The gray rabbit didn't know what to say. There was too much pain in his voice.

"It's not the same as someone I know dying. Eoduin was _part_ of me…" Alexei finally raised his head, violet eyes holding such agony that it was shocking to see no tears on his face. "After they died their bodies returned to normal. One was a deer and the other was a dog—probably a noble. He could use Fire."

"Wait…" she said, the information sinking in. "You mean they used an illusion of some kind to pretend to be ours?"

"Undoubtedly. And there could be any number of them already in our ranks. That's how they knew we were here and set up that trap for us. Don't trust anyone you don't personally know, Lieutenant."

"Captain, _that's it!_ " the other soldier-woman cried. "All the generals and captains that have been dying and disappearing—this is how they've been doing it! _Assassins_ in our midst."

Lieutenant Guinevere looked just as surprised at the thought. "Captain, do you want me to get the alchemist? We need to send this information back to the king as soon as possible. It could save lives."

Alexei squelched the sadness bleeding from his heart. He couldn't keep mourning. No matter how he felt, he had to focus. "I'll go to him now. This can't wait."

Together they made their way to the distinctive tent belonging to the camp alchemist. A speckled brown bear with overly large ears looked up as they entered.

"I thought you might be sending news to the king so I have everything ready."

He motioned to the flat stone on his table engraved with a teleportation circle. Paper and charcoal pencils sat beside it and Alexei had barely started to write when there was a disturbance behind him.

"What do you need?" Guinevere demanded of someone just outside.

"Information for the captain. I know what the Rofakians are doing with the survivors."

There was a pause. "Tell me your unit and lieutenant first."

An instant later she gave a cry as the stranger struck her and tried to rush into the tent. Alexei spun about, seeing what appeared to be a black and yellow hedgehog raising a dagger. Guinevere's companion tackled him from behind and they fell to the ground, but the assassin pulled back his arm to throw the weapon just as someone grabbed the skunk's shoulder—

The entire world turned silver-white and pressure came from every direction, threatening to crush him flat!

Then he fell to the ground, gasping. After nearly half a minute Alexei looked around, recognizing the small building just outside Cosium Castle where letters were teleported. The alchemist lay on the floor beside him, eyes closed and breathing hard.

He felt his chest and arms, finding no broken bones. His head was certainly on straight. Beyond the painful compression of the teleportation itself there didn't seem to be anything the matter.

"Are you alright?" Alexei asked the bear.

He blinked. "I…I didn't think I could actually do it. I've never tried to teleport anyone aside from myself, and it's been a long time since I did _that_. Sorry I did it without permission, but it was the only thing I could do to help." The bear's voice was almost full of wonder. "It took a lot of energy, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. It was almost… _natural_."

As long as his alchemist was sure he could do it again, he had no qualms about being teleported. "How long do you think it will be before you can take us back?"

He sat up, pressing a hand to his head. "Maybe an hour or two just to be safe. I could probably send a message so that Lieutenant Guinevere knows what happened."

Alexei wrote a few quick lines on some blank paper that was in a compartment in the wall, then said he would meet the bear here again in two hours. A pair of guards were just outside the door and gaped as he came out.

"Captain Stripeback?! How did you—?"

"Where's the king?" There was no point in explaining himself when Mortesen needed to know what he'd learned.

The other guard gestured toward the gate nearby. "Before we came on duty he was in the garrison."

He nodded and strode away, overhearing one of them whisper with an amount of incredulity, "Did he _teleport_ here?!"

Alexei found Mortesen in the stables a few minutes later. He was talking with some soldiers, indicating the stock and looking rather upset.

"The most I can give up is seventy. The mares are too valuable. You'll be able to take all the others."

The captain standing in front of him shook his head. "Seventy is far too few. We need twice that number if I'm going to get my men all the way to the front lines by the end of the week, and even so they'll be overladen. Sire, don't you realize if we do not get the troops moved quickly, there may be no point in saving the mares?"

Mortesen stared at him, finally giving in with a sigh. "You can take all the mares that aren't with foal, and maybe use the yearlings as pack animals since they're not broken to saddles. That's probably an additional thirty to fifty mounts, but I _can't_ give you the rest. If any of your men have Mysticals large enough to ride, I suggest they use them."

Alexei tried to ignore the way his chest squeezed painfully once more and interrupted the conversation. "Sire, I have news of great importance that cannot wait."

They turned and the king barely managed to keep the surprise from his face. Alexei was wearing full armor as though he'd just been on the battlefield and ought to have been a hundred miles away near the Ford of Beruna.

The situation took relatively little time to explain. The loss of five hundred men was just as shocking to the king as the realization that their enemies were using something as dishonorable as magical disguises to creep in and assassinate anyone in a position of authority.

"We need to find a way to defend ourselves from that," he agreed. "Wards like the one around Cosium Castle are too difficult to maintain out in the field, but there must be some way to see through disguises. I'll discuss it with Rakar right away and have something for you before you return to your men."

"No time, my King," Alexei said, shaking his head. "I'll be using my alchemist to teleport back as soon as he's recovered enough to do it."

Dead silence filled the stable. Mortesen stared at him, slack-jawed, so it was up to the other captain to state what was obvious.

"You _teleported_ here? And it didn't kill you?"

"Aside from a little surprise and discomfort, it was a pleasant trip," he said with a sarcastic lilt. "If he's up to it, I would feel perfectly at ease returning to the castle every few days or so for direct reports and orders."

"Lieutenant Ebon, find my brother and tell him to come here," Mortesen commanded a black wolf. "It's time I found out everything I can about teleportation. If it's a resource we can use more widely than just for letters, it may be a greater help than we can imagine."

Rakar arrived, appearing surprised when the question was put to him.

"Yes, I studied teleportation theory while I was at the Academy. It isn't so hard to understand. The only way to send anything is by having an alchemic circle established at the starting point and the alchemist's mind completely focused on the destination. They can only send things to a place they have physically been before."

These were things they all knew, of course. That was why letters had to be sent to villages first and then brought to the armies by couriers.

"Live teleportation was strictly prohibited by the masters. Ever since the disasters that occurred eighty years ago when several groups of inexperienced alchemists decided to sell their services without completing their education, the policy changed. The result of a failed teleportation is either getting crushed by the pressure of being squeezed from one place to another or winding up in a random place-often both. Only after _years_ of experience do the masters begin training anyone to teleport living creatures. The concept is almost exactly the same, but the risks are much higher. As far as I know, the strongest alchemist at the Academy can only transport five people at most."

Mortesen's hands clenched and unclenched as his thoughts flew. A new idea occurred to him. "What about storing energy in the circle itself? I remember overhearing an alchemist say something similar several years ago."

Rakar's eyebrows climbed nearly to the top of his head. "Storing energy in a teleportation circle? I…I _suppose_ it could work. I've never heard of it in this case, but that's the way most alchemic runes operate: the more energy stored in them, the longer the spell will last."

"If we had many people store magic in a single teleportation circle, _could_ an experienced alchemist send small groups of soldiers somewhere?"

The dark brown hedgehog gave a slow nod. "Theoretically, yes. I wouldn't suggest using that method until it's been tested, though. The last thing we want to do is kill our own men by being too eager."

"Then I want every alchemist at the castle working on this idea starting today," he ordered. "Oh, and Rakar, I need to talk with you privately this evening about protecting our generals and captains."

Alexei slipped away as soon as he could, glad that this accident had perhaps caused the first real advantage they had been able to get over the invaders. Minutes after leaving the castle he opened the door of his home to be greeted by the exuberant embrace of his wife and young son.

It was too much. He nearly broke down, overwhelmed by the loss of half his army and his Mystical.

In the end he didn't return to the teleportation room until dusk. The trip back felt easier than the first time, maybe because he was expecting it. Guinevere and two of her soldiers were waiting beside the false hedgehog who had been tied to a pole and gagged.

He was too tired to deal with the assassin, so he quietly ordered some of the men to guard him all night then wandered back toward his tent.

Alexei was walking past a campfire when he overheard a possum muttering, "…and we wouldn't have lost so many if not for that _polecat_."

Cold fury washed over him and he was attacking the speaker before he even realized it. The possum fought back until he recognized the face of the one trying to punch him.

"Captain! I'm sorry—I didn't mean it!"

" _Didn't_ you?!" he snarled, pulling the soldier up by his vest. "The next one who calls me a polecat will get twenty lashes by my own hand. _Understood?_ "

"Yes sir," he answered, saluting as well as he could flat against the ground.

Alexei released him and stormed away. There were very few things that riled him as much as that insult. It burned his insides to hear it, though ordinarily he wouldn't have hit anyone over it. If she'd seen, Eoduin would have given him that annoyed look of hers…

"You're only undermining your own authority, Sir," Guinevere said behind him in a low voice.

"Go back to your tent," he replied, not in the mood for a discussion.

But she stayed on his tail, walking quickly. "Once word spreads that you acted this way, many of the men will not trust you to lead them."

"I did not ask for this assignment. I would have done anything to avoid it because I know better than anyone else that I am unqualified for this position. But here I am anyway, and your opinion is most unwelcome," Alexei said in a frozen monotone. "We're retreating in the morning. King Mortesen wants us to join up with another force west of here. I suggest you get your sleep, Lieutenant."

The rabbit slowed to a stop, watching him stalk past another ring of tents, half of which were missing their occupants. At this rate it wouldn't be long before he set himself up as a captain who had no confidence in his men, therefore one who deserved no respect. He'd already started by giving a foolish order.

* * *

Mortesen angled the mirror so that he could see his brother's reflection. "Try it now."

Rakar's appearance blurred and changed to that of a walrus. The king nodded, glancing between him and the glass. Rakar's image in the mirror had remained the same.

"Good. Are you sure it will work on any disguise?"

"Believe me, Mortesen, that mirror will show the truth under any transformation potion, illusion or glamour."

Setting it down, the king gave a relieved sigh. Now it was simply a matter of getting them mass-produced and sent to every general, captain and lieutenant. The castle alchemists were already hard at work with the teleportation theory, but hopefully once the Academy mages received the letter he'd sent, they would send some of their people to help.

"How much harder is it to adjust it into something that could actually strip them away?"

Rakar shrugged. "Easy enough when it comes to the runes—I could show you right now—but it would have to be placed on a doorway or something similar that people walk through."

"Could you possibly imprint them onto the castle wards?"

Rakar couldn't keep from gaping. The twelve stones evenly spaced at the base of the castle's outer walls were inscribed with alchemic symbols that kept the barrier against flying creatures (anything larger than a crow, that is) stable, as well as a host of smaller things such as keeping out vermin or preventing people and objects from teleporting inside. It was so complex that making the wristbands for his nephew had taken over a month of intense work. He could see the use in adding anti-illusion and similar defenses, but students at the Academy were warned that fooling with any castle's wards without proper training could result in a backlash that may burn someone out, never able to use magic again.

"You want me to change them? Brother, do you have any idea how _dangerous_ that is?"

"Yes, which is why I'm going to hold back the safeguards myself while you only deal with the alchemy. I'm sure we can do it ourselves. You're the best alchemist at the castle right now and I wouldn't ask anyone else to help me."

Mortesen's confidence in him made Rakar feel privately proud. Knowing his older brother considered him more powerful and educated than the mage-masters was encouraging. He wanted to live up to that praise.

An hour later while most of the castle slept, Mortesen and Rakar made their way around the perimeter. The king stood leaning against the wall, outfit soaked with sweat while his brother looked on with mounting concern.

All the magic Rakar had used was for imprinting the alchemic symbols onto the ward-stones, but the only way to reach them was by another holding open the individual barrier until the work was done. So powerful were the barriers that even with the added strength Mortesen received from being united to the Cosmos Diamond, the task was close to impossible for one person.

Rakar looked at the cryptic runes on the stone they had just finished. He purposely hadn't included shape-shifting in the list, though it was uncommon enough that no one would notice the omission unless they were specifically looking for that. It might be useful to have Nymph able to enter the castle grounds without turning back into an octopus the moment she stepped up to a gate.

"Mortesen, save the rest for tomorrow. You did eight. That's more than enough."

"I won't stop while we're still vulnerable," he insisted, shoving away from the wall. But he swayed on his feet and drooped back again.

Rakar stared at him, frustrated and trying not to make it too obvious. "Mortesen, just rest for a minute or two. You need to pace yourself."

He shrugged and slid down to the ground after tersely saying he wasn't going to sleep. Rakar moved to sit beside him, suddenly feeling Mortesen sag against his shoulder. The dark brown hedgehog almost laughed because it was so unlike him, but he was still concerned. Whenever Rakar himself was exhausted and needed just a bit more strength, he was able to use the energy collected from people souls. If only there was a way to share that with his brother…

Mortesen jerked away, looking around in a panic. "What happened? Did I fall asleep?"

"No. We just sat down." Rakar felt his wrist, noting several of the scars were gone. Had he really done it? He didn't even know it was possible…

"I feel like I just had a full night's sleep. Are you sure you didn't let me doze off?"

"I swear," his younger brother said truthfully.

"Well, I'm feeling better so let's finish while we can."

They continued around, finally returning to the main gate. Once it was done, Mortesen started to ask Rakar to test the new barrier by casting an illusion, but his words came out slurred. He blinked and tried to speak again, only for the same thing to happen.

Rakar focused on him, uneasy. "Mortesen? Are you alright?"

The king attempted to nod—after all, he couldn't _feel_ anything wrong with himself. But the movement made his head roll back and he found himself flat on the ground, staring at the stars. Rakar's shouts for help seemed to come from far away, then there were several guards standing over him, all looking terrified. One of the castle mages seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Magic fatigue," the mage said, shaking his head in consternation. "What in the world was he doing? It could have killed him! Someone help me get him inside."

Standing at the back of the crowd, Rakar felt responsible for what happened. It wasn't as though he meant to do it, but he should have tried this on one of the criminals back at the prison first—not his own brother! Giving souls to others meant they could keep going far beyond their natural limitations, but when it faded they were wrung dry.

Mortesen was carried away but he remained behind, alone. After a few contemplative minutes he finally wandered over to one of the side-gates whose guard had accompanied the king indoors. The hedgehog went out and cast a quick illusion which dissolved the second he stepped back through. On a whim he cast another illusion and was surprised when he was able to do so.

Rakar had done something wrong.

The markings he'd inscribed ought to have kept any illusion from holding within the barrier, but all it did was strip it away as one stepped inside. Or maybe he had accidentally missed a symbol on one of the ward-stones. Why did Old Speech have to be so complicated?!

But…maybe it would be useful to be able to use illusions within the castle without anyone knowing it was possible… One could never be sure when such an advantage could serve an unexpected purpose.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow. If this wasn't a packed chapter, I don't know what is. Not only does Darren get back home, but Alexei is apparently a poor leader and a mite touchy at the moment, not to mention soldiers are being collared by the Rofakians, and Rakar left a couple loopholes in the castle's defenses (one of which explains why Sapphire was able to stay a hedgehog during "Tale of Origin").**

 **Teleportation has its limits, just like everything else. I suspect that some rulers used it as a means of execution. Just to make sure things are clear, here are the differences between the four types of magical disguises.**

 _glamour_ \- changes appearance of the user without changing features (thin, beautiful, healthy, young, etc)

 _illusion_ \- covers the surface, can be almost anything, requires great concentration

 _transformation potion_ \- temporarily changes user's physical form to an exact copy of another's, requires Blood magic and blood/organs, dissipates after death

 _shape-shifting_ \- physically changing to a different species (what one would look like if they were born that species), permanent unless the spell is broken or time limit runs out, extremely potent and requires great strength to perform

And since the number of OCs are starting to add up, here's a list to keep the important ones straight.

 **Eoduin**  
A mystical that's half-wolf, half-hound  
Abandoned by a wolf pack as a cub for being a half-breed, she wandered into a village looking for food. Alexei took her in and several years later bonded her when he was thirteen. They were partners for over ten years before she died.

 **Mage-Master Briar**  
Brown desert hare  
One of the best Nature-wielders at the Academy and also a member of their Head Council. He was the primary teacher for Darren while he was there learning to control his magic. He was less successful at keeping him out of trouble.

 **King Lugius**  
Dark-furred jackal with paler fur on his chest  
King of Rofaki, obsessed with gaining magic-using slaves, and though he supposedly loves his wife, Isolde, he continually seeks pleasure from his slave girls.

 **Queen Martharine**  
A long-tailed ground squirrel, indigo  
The widow queen of Gardford, she goes to war desiring to secure new resources for her country and decide which of the noble Houses shall rule Gardford after she retires.

 **Princess Lefae**  
A brown-black collie  
Although she's the firstborn child of Lugius and Isolde, she cannot inherit the throne because she is not a boy. She was promised a portion of Cosium in return for helping the invasion. She is currently in charge of the slaves.

 **Farrell**  
Yellow cat with brown stripes  
A peasant responsible for the deaths of several nobles in his village, Ruatha. Due to this he was caught by Rakar and given to Jaxom as a slave. Rakar also used his gift to make him suffer mental torment in response to verbal phrases.

 **Baron Jaxom**  
Gray hedgehog with jagged blue stripes along his quills  
Baron of Ruatha, used by Rakar to convince other nobles to aid the invaders. He owns Farrell and is currently accompanying the Rofakian army northwest of Cosium Castle.

 **Lieutenant Guinevere**  
Gray rabbit  
A feisty Nature-wielder who is responsible for all the women soldiers. She's the only one willing to challenge Alexei's decisions, mainly because she isn't impressed by authority. Later she will become Darren's combat trainer.

 **Prydain**  
Orange hedgehog with small splotches of red  
A foot soldier who was assigned to Alexei's regiment, but was taken captive by Rofakians after assaulting them.

 **Lini**  
Magenta fox  
A magic-using slave who was raised by Rofakians and is loyal to their cause. She is very powerful with Earth and is skilled enough to manipulate metal. Recently King Lugius decided to keep her as one of his personal slaves.


	5. In the Enemy Camp

_**Chapter 5: In the Enemy Camp**_

 **Warning: rated for sexual advances on a teenage girl**

Less than a month into the invasion…

It still felt unreal at times, but the vengeful eyes of Baron Jaxom always seemed to be following his slave even when they were not. Nearly every night Farrell Greeneyes had to relive the most horrible experiences of his life. The involuntary cries he made whenever it happened attracted quite a number of questions, to which Jaxom simply answered that his slave occasionally had fits. No one seemed to notice—or at least care about—the bruises he received from beatings as well.

His master didn't bother to chain him up at night, only saying with a sick smile that he would enjoy making Farrell suffer if he tried to escape.

The cat had felt like a traitor when he'd gone ashore at Vira's Port, surrounded by enemy soldiers who rounded up the terrified Coizards. King Lugius and his daughter sifted through the people every time they captured a new village. Sometimes they would take a few, put collars on them and send them off with a group of slaves.

They also singled out young women as 'camp followers' to do the cooking, sewing and laundry. They were kept separate from the main force and guarded closely at night, but from what Farrell had overheard, they'd been purposely chosen because they had little to no magic among them. It made them less dangerous, he supposed.

He also discovered something else within the first two weeks. His own people avoided him because he was a feline like so many Rofakians, though they tended to be lynxes, panthers, leopards, and even the occasional tiger rather than an ordinary cat like himself. But due to that very thing, the Rofakians themselves didn't look at him with suspicion, even after seeing that he was a slave. They just dismissed him.

This led him to the realization that he could go nearly anywhere in the camp without drawing attention. Things always needed to be done—and as long as he looked as though he was busy, no one paid him any attention. Farrell immediately made it his job to be observant and he practiced copying their accent.

The fourteen thousand troops King Lugius had brought were divided unevenly between ten Lord-Commanders who were great noblemen with private militias. Each militia was then further divided among members of that family so that there were son-captains and brother-lieutenants (though they tended to be cousins and uncles). The ones in authority were always nobles, and as far as he could tell, the positions were not necessarily deserved.

The only troops who weren't under the leadership of any particular noble were what everyone called 'handlers', easily identified by the braided cords around their left arms. It took Farrell some time to discover that they were soldiers with noble ancestry, but their skills in magic were poor at best. They paired themselves off with magic-using slaves kept in the special compounds, and whenever they were needed to accompany a group of soldiers, someone requested them.

But Farrell simply didn't understand why the Coizards started obeying them meekly after a short time once they were captured.

During the first few weeks when the Rofakian army was constantly moving it was impossible for him to get close enough to the slaves, but after taking over a cluster of villages at the Ford of Beruna (abandoned several days before the army got close), King Lugius ordered that the soldiers begin making a more permanent encampment. They had taken a crooked path into Cosium that covered nearly a hundred miles, traveling slowly since the only horses they had were stolen from farmland—and quite a number of them were not in the best condition. Their leader wished to hold fast in this position for an indefinite amount of time even though they were halfway to the capitol. He seemed to be waiting for a signal of some kind.

While stationed there, the yellow cat would watch silently as large groups split off from the main force, returning days later with Coizards in chains. The way the prisoners walked said they were mostly warriors, but for some reason that attitude didn't last long after they arrived. Their eyes went _dull_.

Farrell was unable to approach the slaves until he knew what sort of security they kept around the place. In the end, he discovered the soldiers didn't consider their slaves enough of a threat to post any guards around the 'kennels', as they were called by everyone here.

Finally night fell and Farrell slipped away from the housing provided for the Coizard nobles. He tried to speak with the Coizards, but those who did wake up didn't seem to understand his questions and soon stopped talking. He tried the Rofakian slaves next, finding at once that they still had their senses. But they ignored him once they realized he wasn't one of their masters.

There were over two hundred in the main camp, but they were either addled in their heads or refused to speak with him. The yellow cat was nearly ready to give up when someone else answered his cautious greeting.

"Yes, Lini is here. Who are you?" she asked, looking out through the bars with such a sweet, curious face that he felt instantly protective of her.

He introduced himself, noting that she was a fox but unable to tell for certain in the dark what color fur she had…purple maybe? She didn't return to her bed after realizing he was a slave too, and even seemed intrigued by him.

"Lini has never met a slave who sneaks about at night. Why are you hiding this way?"

"Because the Rofakians will stop me otherwise," he said, wondering whether she was too loyal to her masters to make this dangerous. One word from her could result in Jaxom finding out…and he knew what that one would do to him given the slightest provocation. "Listen, I think I may be able to free you and the other slaves if—"

Horror replaced the sweetness and she jumped back. "No, no! Lini must not go free! Lini is a wilder—dangerous! She _must_ wear a collar!"

Farrell stared at her, stunned. "What do you mean? What makes you dangerous?"

She came closer to the bars again, gazing at him as though this question was utter foolishness, then finally seemed to understand he didn't know. "Lini has no noble blood but can use magic. That means she is a wilder. Lini's parents are dead because of her. Rofaki masters found Lini, trained Lini. Now she is safe."

He tried to make sense of it. How could she have been convinced that being free was wrong?

"You have no noble blood but you can use magic… Maybe you're really from Cosium. Is Lini your real name?"

His words appeared to frighten her and she stared with large eyes. "Lini… Lini does not remember the other name."

"It isn't right that they took it away from you," the yellow cat said, shaking his head with pity. "They treat all of you with no respect, _using_ you. This isn't the way it ought to be."

"No, no! Lini's new master is the king. He is _good_ to Lini! He comes at night sometimes. He tells Lini she is beautiful. He…" she trailed off, blushing.

Farrell stiffened, beginning to suspect why he'd overheard some slaves referred to as 'the king's pets'. "What exactly does he do?"

She ducked shyly. "He comes and talks to Lini. Master touches Lini's cheek. Last night he kissed her… Lini has never been kissed before…"

The cat closed his eyes, starting to tremble with fury. She didn't know what he was doing—what this attention was leading up to. How could that jackal manipulate an innocent _girl?!_

"Please listen to me, Lini. I know you think he's being good to you, but I have a sister who was your age when she met someone who flattered her and said he loved her. He started off doing the same thing—stroking her cheek and giving her soft kisses—then he slowly tried holding her and touching her in ways she did not like. But he was so kind and always said he would never do anything she didn't want that…that she finally gave in completely."

Farrell was visibly shaking now, his hands clenched so tightly that the claws cut into his palms. Lini stared at him in confusion.

"He used my sister, and when he no longer found any pleasure in it, he cast her aside like rubbish. I know King Lugius is doing the same thing to you." His green eyes darted up, catching hers. "Lini, if he ever tries to take off your clothes, _scream_."

The young fox looked uncertain, hearing the pain in his voice. Still she insisted, "Master would never hurt Lini."

* * *

Prydain slogged through the mud with the others. No one else seemed to care that they were wet and miserable and starving. There had been more than two hundred of them when they left the battlefield, but most had been taken elsewhere. According to the orders he'd overheard given, they were grouped by strength. There were now twenty-six of them, and supposedly they were powerful enough that King Lugius wanted them 'trained' in the main camp.

Every muscle in his body cried out for rest, and the only thing he was grateful for was the fact that he wasn't wearing his armor. All the soldiers had to give it up, though quite a number had refused at first and been beaten for it. The next two days had been spent marching forty miles north to the Ford of Beruna, and most of this one walking through the rain.

The weather finally cleared, but it left the roads a mess. Riders on either side of them were able to avoid getting themselves muddy, but the horses' hooves kicked it up, splattering the slaves even more. Prydain spat as a clump hit him in the face, loose grains of dirt crunching between his teeth and making him wince.

Light was fading as they reached the main Rofaki encampment. New soldiers approached and took hold of their long chain. One of them, a bulldog, laughed. "We'll have to build new kennels at this rate!"

Prydain stiffened at the remark and was about to open his mouth when one of his comrades beat him to it.

"We're not animals!"

The words earned him a heavy fist in the jaw. "Yes, you _are_ , and the sooner you wilders realize that, the better."

The slave let out an infuriated cry and plowed into the Rofakian. Two more joined him in pummeling the dog and Prydain would have too but an electric jolt went through the whole chain, sending all of them to their knees. He'd lost count of how many shocks they had received over the last two days. The noble that had done it gave a snort and muttered something about stubborn wilders.

Exhaustion had been pulling on them most of the day, and the promise of finally reaching their destination was enough to deter any other thoughts of escape. Yanked to his feet again, Prydain hardly paid attention as they were led to a narrow lane of small, squat buildings. Each one had fifteen doors, most marked with symbols. They reached some unmarked ones and soldiers started unchaining the Coizards to shove them in.

He was fifth in line and didn't make a sound when the bulldog pushed him through a door and slammed it closed. The hedgehog looked around at the place that was more of a box than a room. There was a window on the far wall, fitted with bars, and another on the door itself, but all he'd been provided with in the way of furniture was a spongy mat to sleep on. He resisted the urge to throw himself down and try to block out this nightmare.

There _had_ to be something he could do.

Ignoring the bone-weariness of his arms, Prydain pulled himself up enough to see through the window. There were the last of his comrades being shoved into cells, but then he saw several people bringing water buckets and setting them down just out of sight behind another building. He was so thirsty that he kept his eyes fastened on the spot, hoping they would have mercy and deliver one to him.

As hungry as he was, Prydain suspected the Rofakians would decide not to feed them this night. The last time any of them had eaten was the night before when they were each tossed a chunk of dried waybread.

A soldier with cords braided up his left forearm—he'd heard someone call them _handlers_ —walked over to the hidden buckets, something small in his hand. A couple minutes later he reappeared, slipping the object into an inside pocket of his uniform then gesturing to the soldiers who had been waiting nearby patiently. They began to pick up the buckets, two at a time, and then carry them to the newly-occupied cells.

In the faint light, Prydain's brow wrinkled. Something about this wasn't right.

His door opened and a soldier set down the bucket and left without a word. It took every shred of self-control not to dart over and empty it of every drop. Seeing Gavin behaving so odd after he'd been collared made him wonder if the Rofakians placed their slaves under a spell. But hypnosis was temporary and hardly worked on anyone with a strong mind. That meant it was either a drug or potion making all the Coizard slaves forget themselves.

And what better way to trick thirsty men into being drugged than by putting it in their water?

Prydain kicked the bucket and the water spread in a thin layer that quickly melted into the ground. But thirst clawed at his throat and mind until he despised himself for dumping the water without absolute proof first.

He leaned against the window bars, staring out at the muddy yard, wishing it was raining again. Then he noticed the roof of the building across from him. It sloped from a low peak, but there was a rounded lip.

Immediately he stretched his hands up, barely able to touch the edge of the roof above him. Desperate, he rolled up his mat and shoved it against the wall, using it to boost him higher. At last he was rewarded with the touch of water that had pooled there. Tearing off a strip of his shirt, Prydain soaked the rag and sucked it dry dozens of times before he felt sated enough to stop.

The orange hedgehog sank to the floor and unrolled his mat, too tired to do more than give one last, triumphant thought before sleep overwhelmed him.

"I can beat them. I _will!_ "

* * *

"Get up, Wilder," someone said, the hard toe of a boot digging into Prydain's side that was sore from two days of marching. "Time for your marking."

As he stumbled to his feet, the handler clipped lead chain to the collar and yanked him outside into the sunlight. It had to be past midmorning and his stomach gnawed on itself from intense hunger. There was a group of ten others near a small house, all of them his companions from the battle. They seemed confused, occasionally staring into the distance with blank expressions and then snapping out of it, only to look confused again.

Prydain knew at once that the water had been drugged in some way. He did his best to mimic them. Then a figure appeared in the shadowed doorway, gesturing to the first slave. A handler led him inside and a few moments later there was a yelp. He came out holding a hand to his upper arm. Two more went in and exited the same way, then the handler pulled on Prydain's chain and he followed.

A young woman was waiting there—a collie whose brown fur was so dark that it nearly looked black. Her gaze fastened on him, showing slight surprise as he stepped inside.

"Light. Quite powerful. He feels strong enough to…" She moved around the table and inspected him with hawk-like gold eyes, almost as though trying to decide his worth. "I want this one. My father has his pets… I think it's time I started my own collection."

"Would you like him placed in the new kennels, Princess Lefae?" the handler asked.

"I think so. He'll be the first to bear my sigil."

The collie reached up to touch his cheek and there was a burning sensation. Prydain jerked back with a gasp, hand going to the spot. He had no idea what mark she'd burned into his skin, but the fact that it was a slave tattoo was degrading.

She gazed at him with a measuring look, taking in the dried mud clinging to his fur and his clothes' dark bloodstains. "I think I'll call him Tai'Daishar. Take him to get cleaned up."

Prydain stared at his feet and kept his cheek covered as he walked, not wanting any of the other prisoners to see the mark on his face. He should have expected this. They stripped away memories, dignity and names…

"No, it's mine!" someone protested, making him look up.

A raccoon knelt on the floor of a different building where Prydain had been brought, curling himself around his clenched hand. A tub next to him was piled high with filthy clothing and another beside it had all kinds of oddments…wristbands, rings, necklaces, small pictures, booklets. The soldier holding onto the raccoon's lead chain pulled hard and he choked.

"You don't need it anymore," he said harshly. "Give it up or I _will_ punish you."

The raccoon shook his head frantically. Prydain watched as his comrade was kicked repeatedly until he couldn't breathe, then his hand forced open. A carved wooden locket tied with a marriage ribbon was snatched away and tossed in with all the other random articles. The handler dragged his half-conscious prisoner into the corner and revived him with a bucket of water in the face.

Prydain's handler tugged on the chain to get his attention. "Understand, Wilder? No one keeps anything. Now strip."

He wanted to spit at the arrogant Rofakian, but what would that achieve? If they perceived him as obedient then they would be less likely to pay attention to him.

The orange hedgehog pulled off his bloodied tunic and shirt, carefully giving the impression he was doing as he was told but had no idea why. It was painful to lose the 'dragon tooth' his little brother had given him before he enlisted, but Prydain knew fighting would have accomplished nothing and he'd have still lost it.

Someone doused him with two buckets of freezing water and after he'd stood there dripping and shivering for a few minutes, one shoved a gray robe and a leather belt into his hands.

"Put that on, then you can eat."

The reminder of food made his stomach tighten with anticipation and he dressed as quickly as he could, still shivering. Before leaving the building someone put manacles on his wrists. Prydain numbly followed the handler to some tables where prisoners were scarfing down their meal, then his lead chain was removed. Half of the others looked more aware after their frigid bath and sat glaring around at the Rofakian soldiers as they ate, occasionally rubbing at the tattoos on their arms. He automatically covered the one on his cheek again, wondering why that collie had to make _his_ more visible.

A bowl of grits was handed to him, then he took a seat beside the raccoon who had received a beating. The other was clutching an empty place at his chest where the locket used to hang.

"My wife…she gave it to me… I promised never to take it off…"

"You didn't. They stole it," Prydain murmured in reassurance. He darted a glance around to make sure none of their enemies were close enough to hear, saying, "It's the water. Whatever they gave us last night was drugged."

"I promised…my wife…" the raccoon said again, sounding broken. It was as though his mind was so fixated on the locket that he hadn't heard.

"You need to fight!" he insisted. "If you don't—"

A fist slammed down on the table between them, cutting him off. Prydain looked up at a deer with deep red fur and then promptly lowered his eyes again as the handler growled, "Slaves are not permitted to socialize. If this wasn't your first day, I would see both of you punished."

The hedgehog focused on his food, swallowing the half-cooked grits that had a flat flavor and wishing once again that he'd never been assigned to that stupid polecat's regiment.

Princess Lefae came over shortly after he was done, a riding crop in one hand and a conceited air draped around her. Without a word she snapped a different, thinner chain to his collar and gave it a tug. Prydain feigned confusion and allowed himself to be led, holding back the anger at being treated like a beast.

If it weren't for her attitude of superiority she would have been very lovely with that silky near-black fur and long, shapely muzzle. The way she walked had a confident sway that didn't overly emphasize her hips, but gave the impression of a girl smoothly entering womanhood.

Lefae brought him to an open space just outside camp where more slaves were practicing with their magic. He saw several of his fellow soldiers had already tried to resist and were now strung up by their manacle chains from posts along the outer edge of the training grounds. There was hatred in their eyes as they hung there, barely able to touch the earth.

The princess cleared her throat to get his attention. "Tai'Daishar, you cannot use magic at the moment but once I release the lock on your collar, you can."

He felt her press something on the side of the collar and it popped open…a little. Lefae watched silently as he reached up to feel, understanding that although it was open it was still impossible to get off. There was a double-lock of some kind on it. He noticed the faintest blue glow around the hand she used to hold the lead chain.

That confused him. Hadn't she used Fire to burn marks onto his skin and his comrades' earlier? Unless… Could she be a mixer? He wondered whether her other Element was Wind or Water.

"You're the first Light-wielder I've worked with, but I've seen others with far less potential. Now first I want you to make a globe of red light. That ought to be easy."

Of course it was. He had made dozens of colored light globes for nighttime celebrations back home. But aside from lighting the darkness, his Element was useless. Why would she consider him a prize?

Deciding there was no point in being stubborn, he obeyed. A soft red light appeared between his hands, growing larger. After a few seconds his connection to the magic severed as the collar tightened about his neck. He jerked in surprise and looked at her. She stood there, arms crossed, the chain at her feet.

"You see? As long as another magic-wielder has your leash you may use magic. The collar automatically closes when I release it or if I stop holding my magic. That was your first lesson."

A ' _leash_ '? The anger inside swelled and it took effort to keep from letting it leak out as the princess retrieved the leash and tucked the end into the webbing of cords wrapped around one forearm so that her hand was free. The outside lock on his collar opened again.

A small dagger came from a sheath at her belt and she held it up. "Now, use Light-honing on this."

"I don't understand."

Her riding crop flew through the air, delivering a slap to his face that made the hedgehog stumble back.

"Tai'Daishar," she said, completely calm, "only a person may say 'I'. You are a slave. You will use your name."

He reached up to touch the stinging welt and also felt the ridges of the tattoo she'd burned into his cheek. Searing fury built on top of the anger he'd already gathered, but he couldn't act on it. _Not yet_. Forcing himself to lower his eyes, he answered.

"…Tai'Daishar…does not understand."

Feeling her softly stroke his quills almost in an apologetic way was so surprising that the festering anger faltered.

"I do not want to hurt you. I will not if you are good." She held the dagger in front of him again. "Light is important to us all, but you can use it for any number of things besides illumination. One of the most useful is enhancing the sharpness of tools. Even an Earth-wielder with metal skills cannot make a blade as sharp as a Light-wielder can."

Now it was curiosity holding his anger at bay.

"Look at the way light catches the blade. Feel the light's reflection. Make it _real_."

He listened and tried repeatedly to follow her directions. The first successful attempt that made the dagger cut deep into a nearby post earned such praise that Prydain couldn't help feeling a little pleasure. Realizing his Element was not worthless was in itself something to be proud of.

She kept him working at it for the remainder of the day, only taking breaks for the midday and evening meals, then brought him to a new kennel with a sunburst on the door to indicate the Element of the one housed there. It had a cot inside which looked so inviting that he fell facedown onto it before Lefae had removed his leash.

After it was off, the princess stroked his quills, leaning close. "Your coloring is so different… I have never seen anyone with the fur of a sunset. That is your name, you know. 'Sunlight at Dusk'."

Prydain had done his best to avoid talking so that he didn't have to use that distasteful name. It was also an embarrassment to him the way his fur had a few soft patches of red among the orange. As a child some of his playmates had called him 'Peach' because of it. Now instead of a taunting nickname, he had a patronizing _pet-name_.

"You are very tired, I know. I will send someone with water for you soon." She stood, then paused. The princess smiled at him in a way that seemed genuine. "I am very glad you are mine, Tai'Daishar."

She locked the door and he rubbed his face, clearing away the idiocy that tried to make him feel grateful. Yes, this was nicer than the one he'd been shoved into the night before, but it was still a _cell_ and he was still a _prisoner_. And she was still an enemy.

Once he'd dumped out the water bucket, Prydain wrenched himself away from the fatigue. He pushed his cot over to the window, stepped up onto it and began to painstakingly retrieve water from the kennel's gutter, one sip at a time.

* * *

Elsewhere in the kennels, King Lugius sat on the stool beside Lini's bed, telling her jokes and listening to her timid laughs. Every now and then his fingers brushed hers in what almost seemed an accidental way. He had teased a quick kiss from her earlier, but now moved in more purposefully, lightly tracing the shape of her cheek with his thumb.

Then she was tasting his lips, eyes sliding shut as she enjoyed the sensation. His tongue flicked out, catching hers, trying to dance in an unfamiliar way that made her blush. He kissed harder, more forcefully. The neck of her robe stretched a little wider, the king's fingers slipping in to squeeze her shoulders, but Lini tensed. He pulled away, looking into her face.

"Lini…Lini does not like this," she whispered, closing her gray robe with one hand.

The king seemed concerned. "I understand. I would never want to do anything that distresses you. It's alright. I'll go now."

As the door closed behind him, Lini had the impression she had done something wrong. The magenta fox sat on her bed, hugging her knees. She had not expected Farrell to be right. It was surprise more than anything that made her speak up.

But she hadn't wanted him to _leave_.

Lini felt a mixture of loneliness and regret the following night when King Lugius walked past her cell and instead visited one of his other pets. She could hear laughter and almost thought she heard them kissing, then he led the girl out of the kennels.

The next night it was the same. And the next. He ignored her for almost a week, choosing to give his attention to the other three. Whenever she watched them walk past her cell, the girls always looked rapt, delighted to be chosen.

How could it be right for her to refuse him if they didn't find the way he touched disturbing? Was she the only one who thought so? Did that mean there was something wrong with her?

Lini was worked hard the sixth day after he'd left. Moving earth and solidifying it to make new buildings for the camp took excessive energy and she felt as though she had none left when he opened the cell door. Tears sprang to her eyes and she struggled to sit up, but he knelt beside her.

"You don't have to move. I saw how tired you were this evening." He ran his fingers along the side of her face, smoothing down the fur. "I've missed you, Beautiful."

The young fox felt so starved for his affection that she leaned forward, wanting more contact. This time when he tentatively eased the neck of her robe down there wasn't even the flicker of resistance. Lini didn't want to be alone again and she welcomed the kisses he planted on her throat and shoulders.

* * *

Prydain hated himself for being weak. Barely a week and he was already beginning to feel comfortable in his surroundings. None of the others had any of their thoughts left. They followed orders, called themselves by their new names, and parroted off the phrases handlers were always telling them.

Wilders are dangerous. Wilders must be collared. Master will make wilders safe. Listen to Master.

Or _Mistress_ , in his case.

Princess Lefae held her head so high when he did the magic correctly, as though _she_ were the one responsible. He'd learned to make a flash so bright that it blinded people, bend the light around an object or person so that they became close to invisible, use light to mirror images, and—hardest of all—solidify pure Light into a shield.

Over and over he went through different plans to use these new skills to escape. If he could just blind her and then take her dagger to cut off the collar…but that wouldn't work because she would let go of the leash before he could use it to make the weapon ultra-sharp. Using the dagger first may not work because it was so keen that he'd slice right through the collar and cut his own throat if he wasn't very careful.

And even if it _did_ succeed, he'd still have to deal with dozens of mindlessly obedient slaves who would attack him at a whisper from their handlers.

The one hope he had was Farrell. While trying to reach the dregs of filthy water on his third night in camp, he'd seen the cat sneaking through their kennels. Farrell had been shocked to find any of the former soldiers lucid and immediately brought him some fresh water.

Knowing why and how all the Coizards had gone witless was helpful because it offered the hope that there may be a cure. Now at least Farrell had an idea of what he was looking for. As the personal slave of a noble, he had access throughout the main camp and could slip into certain places while carrying out his many duties.

He promised to help them all escape. The cat just needed more time to formulate a plan.

But Prydain's pretense of submission was hard to keep up without occasionally slipping into it for real. It was growing easier to get used to this life since he did privately enjoy learning to use his Element, and it wasn't as though they treated him _badly_. Not to mention pleasing Princess Lefae was a reward in itself because she had a beautiful smile and didn't always stare at him as though he was her possession. Strange as it was, occasionally he did get the feeling she cared about him.

He hoped Farrell hurried with the plan. Prydain was afraid if this went on too long…he really _would_ end up freely following her.

* * *

Two nights after the jackal king had returned to Lini, he took her by the hand, leading her out of the cell and across the camp to the house he used until the army moved forward. The other girls always looked excited when he took them, so Lini assumed she should feel the same way, forcefully squashing the nervousness bubbling up inside.

His quarters were very fine compared to any she'd ever been permitted to enter, and he poured a glass of red wine for her. Lini sipped, trying not to blanch at the strong, bitter taste.

Lugius looked at her with amusement. "The others enjoy it. I can get something else if you like."

Not wanting to be perceived as less than them, Lini downed the entire glass. She had three more before he laughed, saying she'd drunk more than enough. The words made her giggle, then the fox kept giggling when she stumbled and he barely caught her in time. His teeth nipped her ear playfully and she shivered with pleasure, automatically wrapping her arms around him.

Then suddenly she found herself lying on the softest bed she'd ever felt and he was leaning over her murmuring, "Isolde, my darling, do you want me?"

Her wine-clouded thoughts swam and she responded with a dizzy kiss, not even bothering to wonder why he'd called her by the queen's name. His hands slipped down her sides, creeping lower until they found her belt. It loosened and he pulled her robe open, beginning to feel along her bare hips. Lini's mind cleared slightly.

 _If he ever tries to take off your clothes, scream._

The king was on top of her, pressing against her body. His knee started to slip between her legs and she felt his hands squeeze her breasts as he kept kissing ravenously, making Lini tremble as she began to grow afraid. No one had ever touched her this way. She didn't like it. She didn't _want_ it. Farrell's voice echoed in her head.

Scream— _scream_ — _ **scream!**_

Lugius jerked back as the shriek tore from her throat. A moment later a guard burst inside, weapon drawn. The king shouted at him to get out, but two more came running in before he could obey. He twisted around and covered Lini's mouth, hissing, "Shut up!"

But she was crying now and trying to cover herself with the robe so that the soldiers wouldn't see. She felt utterly _humiliated!_

His hand cracked across her face with such force that the young fox nearly blacked out. But the screams cut off as her cheek went numb.

"Take that bloody wilder back to the kennels!" he snarled to the guards, shoving away from the bed and grabbing the flask of wine. It was dry in less than a minute then the dark jackal threw it to the floor, glass splintering everywhere.

One soldier lifted Lini into his arms, carrying her because she couldn't make her legs work. Tears kept falling and she didn't understand _why_. It took her a while to realize the Rofaki soldier was muttering as he brought her toward the slave compound.

"…Lecherous scum… taking advantage of _children_ … he has daughters this age…" He paused, looking down at her briefly. "At least he didn't make you emotionally attached to him like his other pets. The whole camp will know about it by morning, so he won't try that again on you, I'm sure. You'll be safe from him now."

 _Safe_ from him? Had she been in danger after all?

Lini still didn't understand what had happened or why her master had changed his attitude toward her so suddenly just because she'd screamed. She thought he would be concerned, but he… Why had he slapped her? Had Lini done something wrong? …Or had _he?_

The wine continued to muddle her thoughts and her tears didn't stop even long after the cell door had locked her in again.

* * *

Rain tapped out a soft pattern on the roof Princess Lefae's dwelling as she surveyed the slave standing before her. The magenta fox kept her eyes down, as was proper. Lefae took hold of her chin and a wave of icy cold swept along Lini's cheek, healing the burn that had marked her as one of the king's pets. It left behind a white scar instead—a mark of shame she would never be able to escape. To fall from his favor and for everyone to know it…

Moments later the pale tattoo on her arm was black once more, making her gasp and shudder at the pain. She continued to keep her gaze angled toward the ground, but tears began to spill down her cheeks.

"Oh, don't start that," the princess chided. "Losing him as your master is not so great a dishonor as you believe. I will find you a good replacement."

"I would expect you to despise his pets," one of the two maids standing against the wall spoke up. She allowed them the freedom to speak their minds, considering these two more of her friends than servants.

"My mother does not care, therefore nor do I," Lefae said with a shrug. Picking up a glass vial, she gave a regretful sigh. "My Tai'Daishar is surprisingly resistant to his medicine. Though I always enjoy a challenge, it's time to stop coddling him. Father's impatience is grating on me."

She went to the closet and opened it, revealing hundreds of leashes hanging on pegs. An ornamented key rested on a nail of the door itself and Lini recognized it—or at least one like it—from years ago when her collar had been removed to replace it with another. Averting her eyes once more, she waited until a leash had been attached to her and then was led outside by a handler.

Lefae stared out the window at the rain, thinking about the Light-wielder she owned. He still had his senses. That was perfectly obvious. Though he tried to hide it and pretended to be subservient, there was animosity behind his eyes. She had hoped by instructing him gradually and with much care he would eventually come to see it was best this way, but the improvements she noted were only in his skills, not his attitude.

And the princess could not progress with his instruction unless he was truly faithful. Her father kept asking why she waited so long to train him in the use of Elementals. He ought to be able to summon three at once with the strength he had at his fingertips. But such a powerful technique could so easily be turned against the Rofakians. She could not risk it until she was sure he was completely under control.

And there was always the chance he would discover how to convert his body entirely into Light. That was something they had to be extremely careful about when dealing with any magic-users of Darkness, Light, Water, Wind or Fire. In the past some had faded into their Elements, escaped their collars and fled. Only the most trusted Rofakian slaves were ever taught the skill, and always in secret to keep other slaves from learning of the possibility. Tai'Daishar could do it, she was sure, but he didn't even know it.

Because of the bad weather, only a handful of slaves would be trained this day, indoors. The others were given the opportunity to rest. She might as well use the lull to bring him to heel.

As she was passing around the back side of the kennels, a movement in one of the windows caught her eye. She squinted, recognizing Tai'Daishar as he reached out to catch the water that dripped from his roof with a rag and then suck it dry.

Less than a minute later Lefae flung open the door to his cell and he pulled away from the window in surprise. The princess stared at him with a glimmer of respect.

"I've been wondering how you were doing it. Seems I chose the most clever one of the lot. It's too bad you weren't more convincing, though. Now I suggest you drink this."

She held out a waterskin to him. Tai'Daishar struck out, sending it to the floor where its contents splattered in the dirt. He crouched in the corner, glaring.

There was a disappointed look on her face. "I suspected you might feel this way. Guard, come in and hold him for me."

A large deer entered—the same one who had threatened to punish him for talking on his first day here. Perhaps before he became a slave, the orange-furred hedgehog might have been able to defend himself well, but with poor rations and being worked to the point of exhaustion every day, the fight was a short one.

Lefae watched, head tilted to one side as though she found the situation sad, yet also confusing. She stepped outside and got a second waterskin from a guard stationed nearby, then took the vial from her sleeve. Several drops went in the opening and she swished it, coming closer.

Tai'Daishar snarled at her. "Cold-blooded thieves! You have to steal our identities and our minds to get what you want!"

"Tai'Daishar, this will—"

"My name is _**Prydain!**_ " he shouted viciously. "That will _always_ be who I am no matter what you say or how you trick me!"

"That mark on your face says otherwise," the black collie commented, now standing in front of him. He flushed, humiliated by the reminder of his tattoo. "I'm tired of this foolish prattle."

He coughed and choked, yet in the end he was forced to swallow. The deer threw him onto his cot and tied the wrists securely behind his back. As he struggled there, Lefae leaned close to his ear and began to whisper in a tone of remorse.

"I love horses, Tai'Daishar. There is not a not a single one of mine that does not love me—because I know how to train them gently. I did not want to do this to you, but there is so little time and my father has been demanding to know why you are not advancing. I have no choice but to break you now."

"You haven't broken any of us—not a single one! All you've done is mask the truth by drugging us! We'll be free someday and _then_ you'll regret— _ugh!_ "

A heavy punch to his back cut him off as the soldier growled, "Don't speak that way to the princess!"

"Oh, settle down," she said absently. "It's the last chance he'll get to be defiant. In two or three days he'll be just like the rest. I'll probably miss that stubborn streak of his."

The door shut behind them and Prydain lay on his cot, finally allowing himself to feel despair rather than anger. If his arms had been free he would have jammed a finger down his throat to throw up the stuff poisoning his mind. Now he would start to lose himself in a well of forgetfulness…and there may never be any rescue for him…

* * *

Farrell went to Lini's cell, having heard rumors about the previous night's disturbance. He also knew she had been worked hard that afternoon creating stone basins to catch rainwater. It wasn't necessary since they were beside the river, but he knew enough about Princess Lefae by now that it was likely she'd ordered the girl's handler to do it so that she had less free time to think about her former master.

"Lini?" he whispered, putting his face close to the window.

His eyes could see well enough in the dark, noting at once that her cot had been taken away, replaced by a simple bedroll. And she was curled up on it, only moving to tuck her head more deeply into her arms.

"I heard about last night. I'm sorry you feel so lost, but if you understood what he was really trying to do you'd know it's better that this happened."

The fox raised her head. By the dark streaks below her eyes, he could see she had been crying for a long time. "Lini doesn't understand. How can Master be wrong? Lini _must_ listen to Master, but Master… Lini doesn't understand…" she repeated in a terrified voice.

"Lini," he said as low and comforting as he could, "you're finally beginning to _think_. Don't ever stop."

She looked away again, the words strange and incomprehensible. It went against everything she'd been taught from an early age. Farrell didn't know what might really make any difference to her. This child had known nothing except confinement. How could he help her to understand…?

"I grew up about thirty miles southeast of here," he murmured. "Ruatha is a small village, but we're known all over Cosium for our woodwork. We have lots of Nature-wielders who can use their talents to shape wood into almost anything."

She had turned back to him. "...They don't use magic to fight?"

"Only against the occasional band of thieves," he said, shrugging. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen. Just outside town is a meadow. Every spring buttercups flower so thickly that they look like one large blanket spread over the grass. Nearby is a waterhole where everyone goes swimming in the summer. It's spring-fed, so the water's always cold no matter how hot the weather is."

He continued describing his hometown, noticing that Lini's eyes were fastened on him. They were filled with wonder.

"My family has a small plot," he continued. "We harvest grapes, mostly, but the rest of our land is for other vegetables. My wife's name is Mara. We have three girls, two of them Nature-wielders. Sometimes it takes all of us to take care of our crops. Even though their magic hasn't settled yet, they are very good at using it to kill weeds."

Lini kept listening, her mind a whirl of confusion. It didn't seem natural to her that wilders should have such ordinary lives…just like anyone else. But Coizards had been living this way for generations. Why did the Rofakians consider that so wrong?

For the first time in longer than she could remember, the young slave began to wonder what life would be like for her if she wasn't collared.

* * *

 **I went back and forth a dozen times before finally deciding to keep the near-rape scene. That sort of subject terrifies me, especially with the emotional manipulation involved on Lugius's part. Scumbag.**

 **But now we see what Farrell is doing, and though I feel pretty bad for Prydain, his part of the story was interesting to write (I guess I can be considered weird for wanting to show the exact process of what he goes through from the beginning). Now you see how the Rofakians are pulling off their gig with all the captured slaves. Yep, it's brainwashing!**


	6. The Cost of Trust

_**Chapter 6: The Cost of Trust**_

"Elementals are one of the most mysterious aspects of magic," Darren read aloud from a book in the library. "Some Masters have dedicated themselves to studying the phenomenon and have been unable to determine with any degree of confidence what they truly are. The primary theory is that Elementals are pieces of a magic-user's soul given solid form. Another popular theory holds that the magic itself is given consciousness. There is also the possibility Elementals are spirits separate from ourselves who use the magic of people to enter our world, but this raises the question of why any sentient creature would obey one who gave it a body for a limited time, therefore this theory is the least likely, especially considering the three classes. Depending on the magic-user's strength, an Elemental can be wild and unmanageable, completely obedient puppets, or act in a way that resembles cognizance."

"You don't even know what 'cognizzy' means," Kaze yawned across the table from him. "How much longer are you going to read that thing? I promised Sapphire I would meet her. Are you coming or not?"

Darren glanced at his brother, noting the way he slouched in his chair and stared at an open book he was supposed to be reading. "You don't find this interesting _at all?_ "

"Nah," he said with a careless shrug. He set his chin on the table and blew one page up slightly so that it hung there for a few seconds, then as it drifted down again he blew it back up.

"Do you think Father can summon first-class Elementals?"

"I don't know. Does he _need_ to?"

The little ebony hedgehog paused. "…I guess not. I was just wondering. If he can, that might mean we can too. Aren't you curious whether it's possible?"

"Meh. I'm going to be a good swordsman. Magic is more of a side-hobby for soldiers. Only people who make it their life's work really care about that kind of thing. You can go study at the Academy and tell me all about it when I need to know."

Annoyance flashed across Darren's face. "You're going to be king someday. Don't you think it's a good idea to be as well-educated about important things as you can?"

The words hardly made an impression on him and Kaze stood up. "I'll educate myself later. Right now I have a merhog to see. Sapphire and her mother got back from Seastone the other day and she wants me to tell her what the city is like since she could only see the docks. Bye!"

The nearest window opened, letting in a stiff seabreeze, then Kaze flew out. But Darren continued to stare after him, caught up in a memory…

 ***Flashback***

Seastone was a coastal city, full of trade and therefore also full of merchants, all competing for attention. Athena had brought her sons there to see what it was like, and at one point decided to show them the slums so that they would not overlook how poverty affected commoners.

Benonic had taken Kaze to look at an old shop, leaving Darren with his mother and their two bodyguards. They were passing by a dark alley when a filthy, pink-furred hedgehog threw herself at Athena, holding tightly to her skirts and crying. The banded style of her ragged clothes immediately identified her as a gypsy and the soldiers started to drag her away.

But the queen snapped out an order for them to release the child. The little hedgehog begged for help, saying her mother suffered from a progressive illness, now at the point where she could hardly move. No one would help and she was willing to offer herself in exchange for healing.

Darren had stood there, staring. Despite the streaks of dirt on her fur and the frayed edges of her clothing and the way her straggly hair hung loose about her shoulders, the young prince was captured by the pure blue of her eyes. Nothing else mattered compared to that.

She was the most lovely girl he'd ever seen. Not like the children of nobles and royals he had to deal with. She was… _real_.

 ***End Flashback***

Darren gulped. She was never going to talk to him on her own…which meant it was up to him. Closing the book softly, he then left the library and went into the hallway. The first servant he saw knew exactly who he meant when he asked about the pink hedgehog.

"She is in the kitchen courtyard," a red and gray mongoose said, balancing the tray of dishes easily with one hand. She had probably brought an early lunch to his father and the royal advisors in the study. Well…war-room now.

"Are you sure?" Darren asked her.

The servant cast him a look that implied his question was a foolish one. "The girl was assigned laundry duties for breaking a vase."

"Oh. Thank you."

Darren hurried downstairs. Ever since he'd first seen her in the gardens, Eliza seemed to be more like a ghost than a servant. Sometimes he thought he saw her, but she disappeared so quickly that he couldn't be certain it really was her. It felt almost as though she was going out of her way to avoid him, but he had no idea why. They had never actually spoken, so it must be something about him she didn't like. Maybe there was a way to change her mind…

The pink hedgehog stood on a stool over a boiling cauldron, stirring the clothes with a long paddle. Sweat dripped down the side of her face as steam billowed up and her arms felt sore. But she had to keep going.

If only she hadn't been in such a rush… The carpet slipped beneath her feet as she ran through the castle corridors, making her slide directly into a table. It was just unlucky that a porcelain vase happened to be there. The beautiful vessel shattered on stone, splintering into a thousand pieces. Not even an Earth-wielder would ever be able to fix it. If she hadn't been trying so hard to keep from being seen by Prince Darren maybe it wouldn't have happened.

Eliza still felt terrible, but she was grateful they had only punished her instead of throwing her out of the castle. It would have been much more difficult to fulfil her pledge otherwise.

"Good," one of the other laundresses said, coming to check on her work. "I'll start taking these out. You go over and hang the sheets Momo is putting through the wringer."

Rubbing her sore muscles, Eliza stepped down and silently walked over to Momo. She'd barely picked up the first sheet when she felt eyes on her. Spinning around, she spotted Prince Darren in the courtyard entrance. Staring directly at her.

She wanted to dart away as usual, but she couldn't leave. And besides, he'd already seen her. He was beginning to walk forward. Momo shoved a sheet into her hands with a growl and Eliza hurried to pin it up on the line. When she turned around, he was right there. Darren awkwardly picked up the next sheet and shook it out. After a hesitation she accepted it. They had hung up four by the time he managed to speak.

"How is your mother?"

She glanced at him as though surprised he remembered. "...Much better. The royal physicians took great care of her over the winter. The pains no longer ail her."

"I'm glad. I was afraid they wouldn't be able to do much since they didn't understand her illness." He offered her another sheet. "How long will you be working at the castle?"

"Aside from the times I must accompany my caravan, I will be released from my vow in ten years."

Darren gaped. "Ten years?! But I thought— But aren't you— It's so—" He tried to settle down, but still looked flustered a minute later. "How could my mother demand you work here that long just for the use of the royal physicians?"

Eliza sighed. People really didn't understand the honor of gypsies. There was a certain equality they weren't able to grasp unless they lived among her kind for a time. Most thought they had no sense of honor at all because they refused to pay for the promise of help—only for the deliverance—which was why healers usually refused to treat them. They wanted to be paid for their failure as well as their success.

She tried to explain even though it seemed so simple to her. "My mother's illness has been tormenting her for five years. In a few months' time all that pain melted away. I offered myself since it is all I have, and I give twice what she suffered."

Darren blinked. "Maybe I can talk to Mother and see if she'll shorten your time to one year—"

"Your people never understand even when it is clearly explained, do you?" she muttered crossly, snatching the next sheet from his hands. "Prince, your mother already tried to convince me a short time was enough, but it is not. I have my pride, my _honor_. Trying to take that from me is an insult a gypsy can never forgive. If I was sent back to the caravan, unable to repay my debt, I would be shamed. I would never be able to raise eyes to look at my mother's face again. Now do you see?"

The ebony hedgehog wasn't sure, but he did know she wanted to be there. And he _did_ want her to stay. "I'd like you to call me Darren. 'Prince' sounds too formal."

Eliza had just finished hanging up the last sheet, her hands freezing as he said the words. Non-gypsies were always so proud of their titles, whether it was a family name or their species…but for him to dispense with them was unusual for someone who ranked so high in his circle. It was almost as though he wanted to be… _on her level_ …

"I am one of the Aishe—what you call gypsies. I have no wealth or position…nothing that would tempt a prince to spend time with me. People will look down on you. Are you sure that's what you want?"

She turned to look at him, realizing for the first time that he was smiling at her. Shyly she started to smile back. Momo rolled her eyes behind them and started wringing tablecloths.

"More laundry, less friendship chats," she growled.

They continued smiling at one another.

* * *

Alexei stared at several reports, not sure what to do. A scouting party had gone down to investigate a small detachment of Rofakians who were skulking about near one of the hills west of their encampment. They ought to have been back by now and he wanted to send another group to check, but was afraid of ordering them straight into what could possibly be a trap.

If only all the Rorais hadn't been summoned to Benden Weir to prepare for the oncoming army… But holding the city against Gardford was important, so he had no right to complain.

He didn't know what to do. How could he keep his men safe and lead them into battle at the same time? Alexei had dropped back into his chair, teeth clenched tight.

"Captain, there is someone to see you," Lieutenant Guinevere said from the doorway.

"Whoever it is, tell him I'm busy," the skunk growled, covering his eyes. "I don't have the patience for another lieutenant who has nothing better to do with his time than ask how he can kill off his men the quickest. Tell him to keep doing maneuvers and send him away."

"Captain Stripeback."

"I heard you the first time. Just—"

"Sir, I was referring to First Captain Theodore Stripeback."

Alexei leaped to his feet, nearly upsetting the desk. Every muscle stretching tight, he stared at Guinevere in astonishment. "You can't be serious!"

She remained silent, feeling he would not respond favorably to the rather sarcastic words on the tip of her tongue. He looked divided. After half a minute he gave a hesitant nod.

"Escort him here, please."

The next time he looked up at a shadow blocking the entrance to his tent, Alexei snapped to attention, offering his most respectful salute. Theodore did not smile at his son, but he didn't look angry either. If anything, the older skunk looked disappointed…which was worse.

"So. What did you do wrong?"

Alexei barely kept from dropping his eyes or swallowing uncomfortably. "I didn't double-check the scouting reports, I didn't expect our enemies to be magic-capable, I didn't prepare a reserve force in case the army was cut off, and the lieutenants were given no contingency plan if things went badly."

His father gave a slow nod. "All mistakes you can avoid in the future. What about after the battle?"

Alexei knew what he was referring to—mainly because it always seemed to be on his mind these past few days since the incident. Knowing his own men spoke so disrespectfully behind his back made a pool of acid form in his belly, but the fact that they were saying it loud enough for an officer to hear was worse than disgracing.

"Who told you?"

"Word travels fast."

" _Perfect_. Now everyone knows I'm a hotheaded failure of a captain!" he said with an exasperated noise.

Captain Theodore pursed his lips, clearly dissatisfied. "How many times have I told you to _ignore_ that kind of talk?"

"More than I can count…" Alexei muttered back crossly. "But they said it to you too! How could you _not_ get upset?"

His father had put up with the taunts for years after entering the military, especially since he'd been the only skunk in the entire castle garrison. As a matter of pride Alexei did his best to stand up to the ones who found it funny to ridicule a mild-mannered soldier that simply wanted to do his job and be left alone, but his father had rebuked him.

"They did so because they thought it shamed me. It took time, but eventually they realized it made no impression, so they had little reason to continue. When people know what riles someone, they have a tendency to see just how far they can go." Captain Theodore stared at his son who would not meet his eyes. The words still meant nothing to him. He sighed. "What about Eoduin?"

"I don't want to talk about her." There was a cutting note to the younger skunk's voice.

"Why?"

"Because I'll never see her again!" Alexei nearly shouted, rounding on him with a fiery glare. "She was part of my family! She was supposed to be there for me—to help me understand where I went wrong—to have her pups—to play with the children—to grow old while I took care of her the way she took care of me… She's gone because I was a fool and I couldn't even give her a proper burial…"

There was a silent moment, then his father said, "You are relieved of your post."

The words were so unexpected that Alexei didn't even register them at first. He stood staring, unable to accept the harshness in the older skunk's face.

"You'll answer to me for the time being."

He finally found his tongue. "But—why? Because I made a few mistakes?"

"You do not have the rank to challenge this decision or the right to question me," the first captain said in a tone that made his son bolt to attention. He walked over to the desk full of maps and reports. "Now, I want you to lead a scouting party and investigate the nearest group of enemy soldiers."

"I sent one out this morning, Sir. They should have been back at least an hour ago. I was debating what to do when you arriv—"

"Good. Then you have your assignment. Collect a fist of soldiers to accompany you and find out what is delaying those scouts. Report back before sundown if possible."

"Yes, Captain," he saluted.

"Fasten this below your vambrace," his father said, holding out a small mirror with a strap. "Look in that and you'll be able to detect anyone wearing an illusion. I'll distribute the rest to the lieutenants while you're gone."

Alexei accepted it, tying the strap around his wrist so that the mirror was on the underside. The sting of shame he felt at having his authority stripped away was quickly replaced by the confidence of having a job he knew how to do. Scouting was easy. He was good at it. If he lost his rank…well, that hurt, but at least the men wouldn't keep looking to him for leadership he couldn't provide.

He called to several soldiers he knew, commanding them to fall in behind him. They followed the trail of the other scouts, hardly having to track since the first group had gone in a direct line without being concerned with hiding their passage. They traveled at a fast pace.

Nearly an hour later they slunk around bushes at the entrance to a dead-ended ravine. Rofakians were camped inside, but they had been in and out so many times that it was difficult to say how many there were by the tracks. Alexei ordered his men to a position farther back and keep out of sight, then he began painstakingly climbing to the top of the ravine for a better vantage point. The entrance was a long, narrow gooseneck that ended in a larger, well-sheltered basin. What he found was discouraging.

The Rofakian camp was small, but against the wall of the ravine was a long chain. Six soldiers from the first scouting party were shackled to it, looking angry and muttering among themselves. Alexei crawled forward on his stomach to get a closer look. There were eight enemy soldiers and he could see their bedrolls piled off to one side as they focused their attention on cooking dinner. They had set a sentry, but he didn't seem interested in his job and appeared to be dozing.

The skunk crawled backward slowly, then once he felt safer he hurried back to the place where he'd left his men. But they were gone. Alexei dropped to the ground, reading their footprints as fast as he could. _That way!_ Sprinting along the trail, he seethed. They should have obeyed him! Whether they respected him or not, if he gave an order in the field, it was _not_ to be ignored!

The scouts came into view not far from the ravine entrance. He grabbed the nearest one, shouting in a whisper, "What are all of you doing _here?!_ "

"It was my fault, Captain," another soldier said, stepping forward. He was a yellow and orange raccoon, not among those he brought along. "I've been waiting for reinforcements. We were ambushed this morning during a routine survey of the area. Cray and Dannil sacrificed themselves so I could get away. I knew you'd need someone to keep an eye on the Rofakians, so I've been watching until someone arrived."

"And? What can you tell me?"

"There are eight soldiers in that ravine. We can lure a few out and ambush them ourselves, like this." The raccoon picked up a stick and drew a map in the dirt, adding arrows to outline the positions they could take. "Then once we have them, we can capture the rest easily."

Alexei nodded slowly. "It might work. There's just one problem. See this?"

He held up his arm so that the mirror caught the raccoon's reflection—showing a black panther. The spy barely had time to widen his eyes when Alexei's fist met his jaw. Two of the soldiers tied his hands and feet, then gagged him. They all exchanged looks.

"Captain, how did you know?"

"He said there were eight Rofakians down there. I counted fifteen bedrolls. If he'd really been here all day, he would have known there were more. I have no doubt he fooled the other scouts into the very same trap he tried to catch us in."

"What are we going to do? They outnumber us almost three to one."

The skunk looked down at the panther/raccoon again. "What Elements do you have?"

They listed off, citing their strengths too. He mentally slapped himself for not thinking to check that before beginning his assignment. He might have made a different choice if he'd known. It was simply second nature to pick soldiers based on their trained skills.

Alexei went over a quick plan, nervous because it relied primarily on their skills in magic instead of with weapons. He'd never considered any attack like this before, but it was the only advantage they had. Hopefully the Rofakians didn't have any magic-users along on this trip, otherwise things could easily turn ugly.

A short time later Alexei gave the signal. On one side of the narrow ravine tree roots squirmed and broke free while on the other, an Earth-wielder sent every scrap of energy he had into the ground, commanding it to weaken. Soldiers cleverly hidden in alcoves there fled before they were buried, running back toward their camp. At the same time, another Coizard sent a volley of fireballs down onto the tents. Everything was in chaos, the Rofakians darting from one place to another as they panicked.

Alexei stood tall at the lip of the ravine, looking down and bellowing, "Sorry for not walking in the front way, but I don't like cramped spaces that look perfect for an ambush." He waited until their eyes turned up to find him. "I strongly suggest all of you surrender."

A dark crimson jackal approached the long chain of prisoners, holding a knife to one's neck. Before he could vocalize the threat, Alexei cut him off.

"I am giving you this one chance. Try to kill my men or use them as hostages and _all_ of you will die. Release them and you will only be captives until the war is over."

The other five Coizards stepped into view, holding their magic. Lighting sparked around Alexei and two others, flames traveled up another's arms, and the Nature- and Earth-wielders simply allowed the glow to cover their hands (they were too drained to fight, but they could still pretend they would). This display cowed the soldiers and one slapped the jackal's knife from his hand.

Once the prisoners were free, they used their own shackles to secure Rofakians to the chain. Alexei ordered the men to bring them out of the ravine and they added the panther spy to the line, the scouts going out of their way to trip or cuff him as they marched. They couldn't get the strange collars off his men because there was no key, so they had no choice but wait to find a way to break them back at camp. Some soldiers murmured to each other in low voices.

The skunk turned to them, raising one eyebrow. "Not bad for a polecat, hmm?"

The tension eased at once and most of the scouts started laughing. Finally they reached the Coizard camp, dirty and tired but still elated. The recovered soldiers were immediately brought to one of the women's cooking fires to fill their empty bellies. Alexei and his five scouts returned to their tents and he was still mentally preparing his report when Captain Theodore met him right outside.

"It seems it's time for me to go," he said before Alexei could open his mouth.

"Wh-What?"

His father offered a clever smile. "When I first saw you today, there was a cloud of shame and defeat surrounding you. I know you've been trying to lead these men the way everyone seems to expect a captain to, but you've never had much skill directing large groups. I wanted you to remember your real talents. I was sent here was to deliver the mirrors, but I thought it was important to help you."

Alexei stared, not fully comprehending. It felt even more unbelievable than when his father had taken over his army a few hours earlier. "…What if I hadn't?"

"It might have taken longer, but I have no doubt you would have rediscovered it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're my son," he said, placing hands on Alexei's shoulders. "It doesn't matter to me that I risked my rank with this deception. All that mattered was helping you find your backbone once more. Maybe now you'll be willing to accept help with things you cannot do well on your own and focus on the ones you can."

They stood there considering one another. His father's pride turned to empathy.

"I know Eoduin meant much to you. I've seen others who lost their Mysticals and I know there are no words for the pain you've been suffering…but you have two choices now. You can be bitter about a future you will never have with her, or you can be _grateful_ for the time you did have with her."

Alexei reached up, clasping his father's arms. "I'll _try_. Thank you…for everything."

* * *

Benden Weir was situated where the River Rush joined the Anduin River, and the small city spanned across three different banks. The buildings on the north, west and east shores were residential, but it was the wooden platforms over the river itself that held the city's spirit. Because of its position at the crux of two rivers, Benden Weir was a trading port of sorts, though its fame was tied more closely to its name as 'the entertainment capital of Cosium'.

Very little entertainment to be had at present, though.

A pale brown beaver by the name of Lieutenant Tristan stood by one of the outer gates in eastern Benden, eyes fastened on a mirror as he watched soldiers stream back inside from repulsing the latest attack. His hand stretched out, pointing to a thin bear. Two of his men grabbed the one he indicated, yanking him out of the crowd. In the mirror his figure was that of a green ferret surrounded by a hazy, swirling pattern that signified a magical disguise.

The ferret tried to protest, but gave up when he was chained with his fellow Gardfordians. They all looked disagreeable, understandably. No spy enjoys getting caught.

"That makes seven at this entrance today," Tristan announced as the door was shut and bolted securely. "Their queen must be getting desperate."

Some of the others chuckled and the lieutenant waved toward the prisoners. "Let's get the new ones stored with the rest. It's almost time for the night shift to take over."

Tristan was relieved that they could leave the entire night to the Rorais. They were the best nocturnal soldiers and could both see and hear better than anyone else in the Coizard army. Only cats came close, but the bats were still superior.

They brought all their prisoners to a large house converted into a jail. Over forty spies had been caught trying to sneak in since the siege began a week earlier. If it weren't for the mirrors, they would have fallen for the trick and the city would have been overrun within the first day or two. Such dishonorable deception. They had tried sneaking in without the potion too, but since King Mortesen had ordered all squirrels, ferrets and other natives similar to those in Gardford to fight in the west against Rofaki (and vice versa), it was always easy to catch them.

As they walked, Tristan couldn't keep his eyes from straying to the houses. Recent rains had cleaned off most of their designs, but some were still visible. He caught glimpses of a flowering tree here, a table set with a feast there…

Benden Weir was famous for its art. The people practically competed with their neighbors, using paints that would easily wash away. They celebrated the rains not only because it helped crops, but because it meant their houses were blank canvases once more.

Once the spies had been shoved into makeshift cells, the beaver lieutenant sent his men across the the stone bridge that spanned the river from east to west sides, popularly called the Queen's Bridge (the King's Bridge passed from the west to north), then told them to eat and get some rest while he delivered the report to their general. West Benden had been made into a safe set of barracks ever since the townspeople had been sent away.

They were defending the city with only four thousand men against twelve thousand. Thankfully Benden Weir had been designed with a high wall and solid defenses. It was meant to be a place of refuge from tribes of marauding mountain-folk two hundred years earlier. All they had to do was keep the city long enough for more soldiers to arrive, then they could begin circling troops around to cut off the Gardfordians' supply lines. They could hold this place for another week at most.

Sunset washed a red glow over the rooftops, making Tristan jerk with surprise as he saw it. The color looked so much like blood…

No. He couldn't think like that. They were still alive. Cosium would win. These invaders didn't know what they'd gotten themselves into.

* * *

Queen Martharine scowled at her generals. They didn't cower, but they certainly looked uncomfortable. Most of them were staring at a map on the cherrywood table in her tent, following the path they'd taken. Traveling along the shoreline had made them vulnerable to King Mortesen's forces who were sent by ship, so they were forced inland through hills and heavily forested areas. If not for the Coizard nobles' knowledge of the area, they would have been flanked several times and lost more than just the three thousand troops they had.

It had been simple to ensure the defeated soldiers were no longer a threat. Whenever they won a battle, the queen of Gardford would show them a village and promise to slaughter every man, woman and child there if even one of the soldiers did not vow to abandon their part in this war. So far she had not been forced to go through with it. Coizards, like her own countrymen, were people of honor. Once they gave their word, they kept it.

"We have been stalled here a full week… _why?_ " she asked, long tail bristling.

"My Queen," a black stoat started, "our success before was dependent on the transformation potions. For some reason it isn't working anymore. The Coizards must have a way to find our people, otherwise they would have opened the gates and signaled for us to attack."

"Thank you for that insightful information," she growled with annoyed sarcasm. "We should have been able to defeat these soldiers days ago _with or without_ the potion. Are the boats ready?"

"Yes, my Queen," the stoat said, remembering the boats she had ordered them to make shortly after they began the siege, "but you know we can't send our men across during the day or under cover of darkness. We may be forced to abandon this position if the Coizards receive reinforcements soon."

"We're _not_ leaving. Benden Weir is known throughout the world as a symbol of music, art and culture. I want that symbol to be _mine_."

"Even with the boats there is no simple way to get across, especially with those bats guarding at night. The flying squirrels we have left are too few to mount another attack. We can't risk using that strategy anymore. This war was dangerous enough at the beginning when we had all fifteen thousand troops, and day after day we lose more…"

But Martharine was no longer listening because her mind was occupied. The battalion of flying squirrels had helped take one garrison and eight smaller military outposts since the invasion began. Unfortunately the queen's insistence on relying so much on them resulted in the loss of nearly ninety percent. Her generals had tried to dissuade her, especially since she was no tactician, but she saw them as useful tools since the Coizards had no aerial force besides the Rorais. And up to now the bats had only been seen singly or in pairs as scouts. They were much more formidable in larger numbers. If only…

The long-tailed ground squirrel paused, eyes glinting in the lamplight. "Gentlemen, I believe I have an interesting plan that may win us this fair city before daybreak."

The generals exchanged looks, but as she began to outline what she had in mind, they grew thoughtful. One by one they agreed it could work, though it depended entirely on one factor: whether Cosium's allies could be swayed or not. Queen Martharine allowed herself a small smile, moving to her bed and pulling a chest from beneath. Its glittering contents made them fall silent.

"Believe me, everyone has a price. Now, send for one of the flying squirrels. I wish to arrange a meeting."

* * *

Lieutenant Tristan knew he should sleep, but he'd been given an opportunity to rest the day before and now his body seemed to think it didn't need more. Strapping on his armor and with the stars overhead his only light, the beaver passed through camp and toward the river. The wooden platforms and their interconnected rope bridges came into view, though because of the darkness he could only see the nearest ones. There were dozens of them out there above the river, built on wooden pillars, each one a center of amusement during better times.

His father had been here long ago and described Benden Weir at night… He said lanterns floated on the water and hung between platforms, then one girl would begin to sing, joined by others so that music swelled and filled the air with an ancient lament so beautiful and overflowing with such longing that those who heard it could not keep their eyes dry. The girls would sing cheerful things too, but they always began with what they called a "threnody" for the dead. There was nothing like it in all the world.

If a threnody was ever needed, it was during wartime. The beaver thought of his friends and comrades lost during this foolish battle.

Lieutenant Tristan decided to check on the soldiers manning the walls in East Benden. Sometimes they dozed off when nothing was happening. He started across the Queen's Bridge, intent on his goal, but halfway there he stopped cold. Shadows moved over the water and he could hear the hushed whisper of voices as boats came up to the bridge. His eyes went large and Tristan started to sound the alarm, but a hand clamped over his mouth.

"You shouldn't have come here," someone whispered in his ear with a distinct accent. "Sorry about this, soldier."

An instant later a knife slid between his ribs with vicious force, making his body go rigid as every wisp of breath was driven out. The one silencing him shoved and Tristan felt himself falling, then he struck water and went under.

A current dragged him along, slamming him into wooden pillars or boulders—he didn't know which. Though he couldn't see it, blood leaked into the water around him. His lungs screamed and his side throbbed with slicing, burning pain. Tristan desperately groped for his magic.

' _Please! Just this once—let me_ _ **do**_ _something!'_

Milky blue light swam over his hands. The river continued to suffocate and press from every side as he begged it to help him up, up, _up_. A slight eddy caught his body—just a little one—and he broke the surface.

' _Shore, shore! Take me to the shore!'_ he mentally urged as he took in greedy gulps of air.

It was impossible to swim and he couldn't even use his wide, flat tail to steer because his armor was too heavy, but the beaver somehow knew it was working. He felt too dazed to comprehend the fact that he was actually using his Element to direct some part of the current even though he'd never been able to do anything more than purify filthy water in the past.

Mud and silt were beneath him suddenly. Tristan lay in the shallows, both hands pressed against the deep wound. He didn't know enough about healing to fix his innards, but maybe he could at least close it to keep from bleeding to death…

"I have to warn them… the boats…"

* * *

Mortesen shuddered, rubbing his arms to get the feeling of being crushed out of his skin. "Now I understand what they mean about teleporting being horrible. No wonder people don't use it casually. Does it _always_ feel that way?"

"As far as I know. …Are you sure about this, Brother?" Rakar asked in an uneasy tone, looking around at West Benden.

"I need to be here. It's important to see what my men have to face. I can't keep staring at maps all day and expect to understand what they're really going through. Besides, they'll never know who we are unless we tell them. We're practically invisible," he said, touching the uniform of an ordinary soldier he wore as a disguise.

The red-brown hedgehog suppressed a sigh of irritation. He didn't mind being on the front lines, but Mortesen was in danger anywhere but the castle. This made him nervous.

"I don't see why you wanted to come in the middle of the night. What's the point?"

But Mortesen stood still, sniffing the air. "That smoke… It's too strong to be cooking fires. What's going on?"

An instant later he took a leap, becoming a rush of wind that materialized on the top of a two-story house. From there he could see across the river. A fire had broken out among the houses nearest the eastern wall of the city.

"Gardfordians!" he roared. "The enemy is inside the walls! To arms!"

Rakar took up the cry below, then soldiers came streaming out of their makeshift barracks all around, shoving on their armor and asking what was happening. Mortesen was already leaping from roof to roof to get to the closest bridge, but he skidded to a halt when he saw the Gardfordian troops were already crossing. There was no way they could retake East Benden.

"Retreat!" he shouted backward. "Fall back before they get outside the walls and trap us in the city!"

Even though no one knew who he was, the call was taken up. Soldiers surged back toward the gates, grabbing any supplies they could lay hands on as they fled. Rakar gestured for his brother to head toward the south gate even though most of the soldiers were headed west. He wanted to get them out of harm's way immediately, and to do that he needed to find a safe place where he could draw a teleportation circle.

They were nearly there when a group of Gardfordians cut them off. Before they knew it, enemy soldiers surrounded them, forcing Rakar apart from his brother. Mortesen started to summon a tornado but immediately realized it was more likely to hinder himself and Rakar than the ones they were fighting in these narrow streets. It died down at once as he focused more on using his sword.

Two people attacked Rakar from different directions, leaving him unable to use his Royal gift or allowing him enough concentration to fade away into his Element. A third joined in and a well-placed thrust sent his sword flying. The red-brown hedgehog felt the hilt of a weapon strike his chest, driving him against the side of a house. He tumbled into a collection of discarded farm tools.

"Rakar!" Mortesen shouted, pinned down too far away to help.

Rakar forced his eyes open, seeing a curved blade of some kind lying directly in front of his face. Without thinking he seized it, barely raising it in time to deflect the sword meant to impale him. On his knees now, he continued to strike out, a purple glow beginning to crawl over the weapon. It whirled fast, slipping past the Gardfordians' defenses and slicing into their bodies before they knew it was there.

All three were dead in seconds and Rakar stood there breathing heavily and staring at the blade he'd found. Vaguely he was aware Mortesen had bested those attacking him and came over to check on his younger brother.

"What happened?" Rakar wondered. "This scythe… it feels… _right_."

"It must be your _true weapon_."

But he dropped it, lip curling up in distaste. "My true weapon is a peasant's tool?"

"I've heard Lady Death carries a scythe, and if a 'peasant's tool' is good enough for her, I don't think you have much to complain about. There must be a reason it harmonizes with you."

They looked toward East Benden again. The fire on the far side of the river seemed to be under control. It was impossible to say for certain what was happening, but it was too late for them to do anything for those trapped there.

"...boats… there are boats coming… alarm…"

Mortesen glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source of the croaking voice. A figure came from the open gate, stumbling and holding both hands to his side. The king hurried over, finding a beaver.

"Are you hurt?"

"Knife," he gasped. "Couldn't heal it enough…"

"Rakar, you're a better healer than I am and you can see in the dark," the king said, making the soldier lie flat on the ground. "Do everything you can for him."

Taking a look at the beaver's side, Rakar determined roughly what kind of internal injuries he had and tried to repair them. Seconds later the lieutenant's eyes flashed open.

"The boats! Boats are docking at the Queen's Bridge! Sound the alarm before they get into the city!"

"It's too late," Mortesen told him in a sad voice. "They've already made it across. Benden Weir is lost to us. All the men have been ordered to fall back. I'll find the Rorais and find out how those boats got past their sentries."

"They didn't," the beaver growled. "It was a Rorais who stabbed me to keep the alarm from being raised in time. I have to tell the general!"

The black hedgehog gazed at him in shock for several seconds before saying softly, "No need. You're speaking to the king."

He struggled up, saluting before he'd fully gotten to his feet. "King Mortesen! My name is Lieutenant Tristan. Please believe me, I _know_ what happened."

Mortesen started away and they followed, though Rakar wondered where he planned to go. They caught up with the last Coizard stragglers and joined in. There was a rendezvous where everyone was to retreat if Benden Weir fell to the enemy. The remainder of the army streamed toward safety, carrying them along.

Two hours later a slapdash camp came into view. They made their way through, trying to figure out where to find anyone in charge. A large barn seemed to be where the officers were congregating, so they pushed their way forward. Lieutenant Tristan's rank kept them from having to make a scene and they entered the barn, staying near the back to listen. Someone had used their Element to create floating balls of light above everyone's heads. Things had barely gotten started when they arrived.

"How could this have happened?!"

"Weren't the Rorais on duty?"

"How could your people overlook this, Glut?"

The bat toward whom these questions were directed stood in the center with three of his wing-captains. There was obvious strain in his face and he appeared ashamed.

"My soldiers are organized into three shifts—one patrols upriver, one downriver, and the last watches over the city itself. During the switch when the upriver patrol trades posts with the city patrol, there is about half an hour when only a few bats keep watch so that the ones who were flying for three hours straight can rest their wings and eat. The Gardfordians chose such perfect timing to slip in that they must have been tracking our movements and habits closely. It was a dire mistake that cost us the whole city and I take full responsibility for it."

All the officers were quiet, but it was a forgiving silence. Mortesen listened, hands clenching so tightly that his knuckles stood out beneath the gloves. The general started to move on, trying to decide what they should do now, but the black hedgehog strode forward without bothering to apologize to those he bumped along the way. Everyone saluted once he'd reached the front and they realized who he was.

Glut Whitewing's expression changed quickly from surprise to heartfelt apology. His wings spread wide above his head as he bowed. "Your Highness, I cannot tell you how sorry I am for this. The fault is entirely mine."

"No. I want you to say it clearly. _Was this an accident?_ "

"Of course. I would not have left our Coizard allies open to an attack on purpose."

The hedgehog's jaw visibly tightened as he closed his eyes and appeared to be trying to hold back his anger. Glut didn't know about his Royal gift, and his truth-telling made it abundantly clear he could not trust a thing this bat said. After a few seconds he looked back at his brother.

"Rakar, hold them still for me."

The bats found themselves trapped by tendrils of black shadows. Glut was shocked at first, then began to shout. "How _dare_ you lay a thread of magic on me! I'm the Mouth of Rorais! Cosium will pay dearly for this insult! I—"

"Search his captains," he ordered the nearest officers.

They obeyed as he stepped up to Glut. The Rorais began to show a whisper of worry that quickly turned to terror when Mortesen reached into his vest's inner pocket and pulled out a small bag. The other wing-captains each had bags too, though not as heavy as their leader's. Every one bore a handful of jewels.

Mortesen loosened the drawstring of Glut's bag and four large, bright rubies spilled into his palm, each one carved into the shape of a falling droplet of water.

"The famed Firedrop Rubies. How _odd_ that gemstones which ought to be in the treasury of Gardford are in the possession of the very one who failed to defend my troops against the Gardfordian army." The king's face transformed with rage. He fisted the rubies so tightly that they scraped against each other with a noise that made the bats shudder. "This was no accident, you flying maggot! This was _betrayal!_ "

Glut's breaths came so quickly that he could hardly speak. "King Mortesen— L-Let me explain!"

Mortesen turned on him, the rubies flashing between his clenched fingers as he held the fist an inch from the bat's nose. "From this day forward, we, Cosium, forsake the alliance with Rorais. Anything that happens to it shall not be started with us, nor shall we come to its defense."

Glut's pupils shrank to pinpoints and his face was bloodless. The treaty itself might as well been shredded and thrown in his face.

"No! You can't—"

"I know how much your people love jewels, and I can think of nothing more painful to you than to see something beautiful gone to waste." He shoved the rubies back into the pouch and handed it to Rakar. "Have those thrown into the sea."

"NO!" he protested, straining against his bonds of darkness. "Please don't! They're priceless!"

"Congratulations, Glut," Mortesen's voice was contemptuous. "Not only did you singlehandedly destroy your country's treaty with Cosium, but you got nothing for it. I hope you're on good terms with your king. From what I recall, he doesn't take such failures well." He stepped forward, leaning so close that he could have bitten the bat. "You and your people have until sunrise to leave Cosium. After that I'm sending a message to my soldiers to kill every bat on sight. Your kind will _never_ be welcome in my country again."

Rakar released them and the bats scurried from the barn. He set a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's the price we pay for trusting those who are so unlike ourselves. Rorais are scum."

The other hedgehog didn't answer. He was too distressed. Rakar could hardly keep his anger in check either. This was _not_ part of his plan. Benden Weir was one of the most beautiful places in Cosium. For the Gardfordians to overrun it was a great blow to the country, and morale was already so low.

It was nearly time to start striking back.

* * *

 _ **A/N: On the off-chance anyone would like to see the map I drew of the country, google "janikacheetah map". Follow the river that empties into the largest bay until it splits. Benden Weir is right at the junction with part of the city on three different shores, the King's Bridge connecting the north side to the west, and the Queen's Bridge connecting the east side to the west.**_

 _ **There was originally going to be an actual battle in the chapter, but it was too complex and didn't really add anything necessary to the story (plus battles are tough to design and write), so I simplified it by just having the tail end.**_

 _ **Looks like Darren isn't as bad at talking to girls as he thought, and maybe Alexei can finally get over his pride issues, but we now know why Coizards hate Rorais.**_


	7. A Bitter Sacrifice

_**Chapter 7: A Bitter Sacrifice**_

The noonday sun streamed down onto Cosium Castle, its heat bordering on scorching. It felt more like deep summer than spring, and there weren't any clouds on the entire horizon to soften the heavy heat. Thankfully the castle's stone walls kept the temperature pleasantly cool, and whenever the air did get stuffy, all the king had to do was wave his hand to make a breeze sweep about.

"Things aren't looking any worse in the north ever since the Rofakians halted. We still don't know why they've been sitting there at Beruna for almost a month," one of Mortesen's advisors said, going through the morning's reports. "The Gardfordians are beginning to leave Benden Weir, but it's difficult to say yet whether the city is fully intact."

The king listened without comment. Remembering the disaster at Benden Weir still blistered and jerked out a reflexive hatred for the Rorais. All the bats had left Cosium since their betrayal two days earlier.

"And you're sure they aren't pursuing any of the refugees who headed north?"

"They're safe, Your Majesty."

He gave a sigh. At least there was _some_ good news. The last thing he wanted was for the invaders to start pursuing those who were most helpless and attempting to slaughter them simply because they were Coizards. It was already bad enough that he couldn't use any of the troops the Gardfordians had overpowered. They had contacted him by letter, saying they would remain at the outposts, but had made oaths that they would not raise swords against their enemies during this war.

The troops in the northwest, however… Everyone was growing anxious about them. Any soldiers that were captured simply _disappeared_. Dead or prisoners…it was impossible to be sure. He hadn't heard back from any of the scouts who were sent to spy on the Rofakians either, which was even more unsettling.

"And what about the pavilion?" he asked. "Now that the Academy masters have given our teleporters guidelines to follow in sending people from one place to another, I want those completed right away. Being able to move our troops quickly can mean the difference between success and failure now."

One of the other advisors stepped forward, showing a sketch of the pavilion the alchemists had designed. "Several Earth-wielders are working on it as we speak. They're setting it up directly beside the teleportation room, and as soon as the symbol is properly etched into the surface, we can begin asking townspeople to pour their magic into it."

"How long before we can start moving soldiers? I want groups sent _here_ and _here_ so that we can fortify two of the garrisons in central Cosium and see if that will prevent our enemies from joining forces."

Before anyone could answer, the door opened. Athena stepped inside, her expression both sad and reluctant. "Mortesen, you don't have to…but you did _promise_ him you'd take time off today."

He sighed, pushing away from the table. "I know, I know… And I always keep my promises. You all have your assignments and I don't need to do anything imperative at the moment. If something _does_ come up, I would like to be contacted discreetly. Understood?"

"Yes, my King," they answered together.

A few minutes later he and Athena walked down to one of the castle's smaller reception rooms. Several children were playing a game with Benonic, but they stopped and looked up as the king and queen entered.

"Papa, you came!" Kaze cried, throwing himself at Mortesen.

"Happy birthday, Kaze," he smiled, returning the hug. "I wouldn't miss your party even if there was a battle on our doorstep."

The children (a few nobles but mostly young ones belonging to some of the servants) laughed and took up their game again. Benonic was in the middle with a bandana over his eyes and trying to find the child who had the red ribbon, but they kept handing it off to each other and shrieking "Not me!" whenever he snatched one. It was meant to be confusing, and luckily the light purple hedgehog was a good sport.

They continued playing more games, and later a cake was brought out, followed by Kaze opening his presents. He held an embossed pair of scabbards Mortesen gave him.

"Two?" he asked, giving a half-grin.

His father nodded with a shrug. "Captain Alexei told me he saw you practicing with a pair of swords, but you weren't very good. If you want to get better, you need a little _encouragement_."

"This'll work!" Kaze laughed as he ran his fingers along the leather and brass. "Thanks, Papa!"

Behind them, Darren stared down at his uneaten slice of cake. His birthday had been four months earlier. The Academy masters hadn't felt comfortable letting him go back home after only a few weeks of lessons, so two of their well-trained assistants went with him. It felt like having babysitters following him around all the time. His mother and brothers had gone out of their way to make his birthday special, but Mortesen barely stayed long enough to say a few congratulatory words then left to do some business that probably wasn't all that important.

Now for Kaze he postponed his attention on an entire war.

The little hedgehog felt tears beginning to gather and his face contorted in an attempt to hold them back. But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to keep from bursting out into sobs right in the middle of Kaze's party. Darren edged to the back of the crowd. Once no one was looking, he darted out the door.

But someone _had_ noticed.

Mortesen looked over in time to see Benonic rush out the door. Wondering if there was some sort of trouble, he followed. The light purple hedgehog stopped hurrying down the hallway when the king called his name.

"Ben, why are you leaving? Is something the matter?"

Benonic stared at him for a few seconds, and Mortesen was just beginning to feel unnerved when he signed. _"How interesting that you would notice me go, but not the one I was after."_

"What? Who?"

He pointed to the window and Mortesen looked out. There was a little figure slowly walking into the sheltering arbor of the royal gardens. Darren rubbed at his eyes and then kicked a stone hard enough to make it bounce off a branch well above his head.

"Why did Darren leave?"

" _Maybe you should go find out from him instead of asking me."_

The black hedgehog could tell there was something implied in the words, but he didn't know what. Deciding to take his adopted son's advice, he said, "Do me a favor and tell your mother I'll rejoin everyone when they go down to the beach, will you?"

Benonic nodded, his gaze softer now. Mortesen made his way into the gardens. It didn't take long before he noticed a thick vine winding its way around a tree. He looked up, catching sight of two red eyes staring quizzically down at him.

"Hey, there," he called. "That looks like a fun spot. Can I come up too?"

Darren blinked in surprise. "…Sure, Father."

The hedgehog king clambered up using his son's vine to help him along. When he reached the wide branch where Darren was perched, the little hedgehog moved aside to give him room. They sat together for a minute in silence as Mortesen realized he had no idea what to say. It was easy talking to Kaze, but he didn't know where to start with his youngest son.

He glanced over and caught Darren peeking at him from the corner of his eye, then the little one jerked his head away as though embarrassed.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Not really, Father," he replied in a stony voice.

Mortesen stared at him harder, wondering why his son addressed him that way. "You don't have to be so formal when we're alone, Darren."

"I wouldn't know what it's like to be alone with you, so how would I know the way I'm supposed to act in that situation?"

The bitterness in Darren's tone surprised him. Then it struck him that his son was right.

"You _always_ spend time with Kaze," the little hedgehog muttered, pulling one leg up and wrapping his arms around it. A tear slid down his cheek. "Mama says it's because he's going to be king and you have a lot to teach him. But if Kaze is the only one you needed, then why did you bother to have _**me?**_ "

There was a pause. Then Darren didn't know what to think when he felt an unexpected embrace. A stiff wind came along, swaying the branch beneath them and making the leaves whisper to each other, but all he felt was the deep, unfamiliar warmth of his father's arms.

"Cosmos made you for us, Darren. She knew we needed you too. There are things I can learn from you that I can't learn from Kaze, and there are things you can do that Kaze will never be able to."

The little hedgehog found his throat squeezing tight, almost making it impossible to get his words out. "But…then why is he your favorite?"

"I didn't realize it looked that way until now. I'm sorry for not making time for you. Thank you for showing me what I should have known before." He slowly released Darren and smiled down into large eyes that were brimming with more tears—but they weren't sad ones anymore. "Hey, I have something special for you."

Mortesen unclasped the black bracelet that was hardly noticeable against his fur, then held it out. With a curious gaze, his son accepted it.

"That belonged to your grandmother. When she gave it to me she said as long as I wear it and remember her, I will never come to real harm. That _doesn't_ mean it makes you invincible, so don't do anything foolish."

"But, Papa…it's _yours_. Won't you miss it?"

"Not if you take good care of it for me," he answered, helping Darren put it on.

He fingered the beads, reading their symbols aloud. "Timeless v-virtues… truth… goodness… honor… respect… love… responsibility… pride… They're just words, not spells."

It was surprising that his son could read Old Speech so easily. He'd never known the meanings of the marks on the bracelet until now.

"Your grandmother wasn't very good with her magic, though my father said she was quite strong. She liked to impress on me the importance of having a proper moral upbringing rather than being more powerful than others," Mortesen said. "I didn't always listen to her, though I hope I'm getting better about following her advice."

He rested his back against the tree trunk and pulled Darren onto his lap. They sat in the tree most of that day, just talking. For as long as he lived, the young prince never forgot it.

They did eventually rejoin Kaze and the others down at the beach. Sapphire and her parents came to celebrate the crown prince's birthday too, but Mortesen remained in the background with his youngest the whole time.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in the northwest…**

"They'll be attacking one of the northern posts tomorrow," Jaxom said, setting the letter down. "Trying to cut off one of the supply lines. 'General Gast' certainly is helpful."

"I would enjoy this more if it wasn't Cosium we were fighting, but as long as the king suffers, I'm content," Baron Reno replied across the table. "King Lugius offered me ownership of three towns in Rofaki. I said if he gave me three towns in the remains of Cosium I would be forever loyal."

"As long as you don't really mean it, I have no problem with that sort of deal," the gray hedgehog said in a growl. "I hate this subterfuge and lying. It's a disgrace to anyone with an ounce of honor."

"As long as we get our homes and power back, what's the difference if no one knows?"

" _I'll_ know what I did. That's the difference." He paused to touch the crest of Rofaki on his shoulder, fingers suddenly curling into a fist. "Once we are fighting for Cosium again, I'll rest easy."

"As will I and the rest of the nobles," Reno agreed. "None of us are comfortable seeing our own people turned into emotionless weapons but there isn't a thing we can do about it. Most likely we'll have to kill them when the time comes."

Jaxom sat there, considering. "They do anything anyone says, so it wouldn't be hard to poison the ones in this camp. It's the rest I'm worried about. They only have about three hundred here, but very likely thousands in the other slave camps. I don't know if we can kill them all."

" _Thousands_ …" the other hedgehog repeated in a tone of disbelief. "A few days ago I saw them using Earth-wielders to make more collars and alchemists engraving symbols onto them. Lugius is preparing to capture the entire country."

They continued to converse, ignoring the slave who meekly sat in the corner. Farrell didn't move, but he listened, and his eyes noted everything. When Jaxom's cup emptied, he poured more wine, hastily and with much humility.

Once Reno had left, Jaxom wrote a quick letter and sealed it. He threw a scathing look at Farrell and the cat hoped he was too drunk to stay awake much longer, otherwise he would inevitably turn to tormenting his helpless slave.

"Give this to the messenger come morning."

"Yes, Master," he replied, not making eye contact.

The hedgehog sat at the table for a while, staring at nothing, then he finally whispered to himself, "Benden Weir… Ryla and Jace loved it there. How could they let the city fall? Will it ever be the same again? When is he going to let us turn on these foreigners?"

Jaxom downed his glass in one gulp, not even noticing that it was refilled three seconds later. He continued muttering to himself, growing less coherent with every glass. As Farrell slipped close to fill it perhaps the fifth time since Reno left, the baron's hand snatched the front of his vest, dragging him close. The slave looked into red-veined eyes full of anger.

"Did you think you'd get away with it tonight?"

Farrell's eyes widened and he began to tremble. "No, Master."

"Tell me…do you see anyone die during these little screaming sessions of yours?"

"M-My son and…your family."

There was a pause, then Jaxom's teeth showed in a smile that was more of a jeer. "Good. _Remember your worst fears_."

By the time the yellow cat came out of the visions, his owner was already in bed, throwing one last disdainful look his way before dousing the lamp. Within moments he was in the midst of drunken sleep, leaving Farrell where he was, unable to stop weeping for a long time.

An hour later, a pinprick of light cleared a little of the darkness as the feline slave hunched over the letter, copying every word painstakingly onto another paper. He had no idea what the symbols meant, but he tried his best to make them as close as possible.

Once he was done, the cat poured a new wax seal onto the original letter and returned it to the desk, then he lifted a portion of the rug. A thin layer of papers was hidden there. Taking one of Jaxom's leather folders, he put them all inside and then pulled a narrow, wooden vial out of a decorative vase. He placed it in too before sealing the entire edge with green wax and blew out the candle.

Farrell composed himself, going over his plan at least a dozen times before he felt ready enough to go through with it. He was risking _everything_ with this gamble.

Straightening his shoulders, he left the house and strode over to the tent where some soldiers were throwing dice. They looked up when he approached.

"Where are the messengers? Lord Jaxom needs this sent _tonight_ ," he said in his best Rofakian accent.

One jabbed his thumb towards a nearby tent. Not giving them another look, Farrell went over to it and threw the flap back. A large doberman lay sprawled on a bedroll, but he groggily opened his eyes when the leather packet landed on his stomach.

"That needs to be delivered to Cosium Town in three days. You'd better leave now if you're going to make it in time."

The canine looked up, taking in the collar on Farrell's neck and then rolling over to go back to sleep. "I don't take orders from slaves."

"If you think ignoring me because of that will keep you from getting your tail chopped off when Lord Jaxom finds out you didn't deliver this before it was too late, think again."

The messenger seemed a little more awake now and sat up. "Fine, fine. Where is my bag?"

As soon as he found it, he checked to make sure he had a transformation potion, then looked at the message folder. Confusion filled his eyes. Before he could ask, the yellow cat explained.

"It's too dangerous to put the name or destination on it. If that falls into the wrong hands it would reveal the identity of the spy no one knows about except Lord Jaxom."

"Where do I take it?" the doberman asked.

"To the last one anyone would ever expect. The Captain of the Guard has a wife named Trina Stripeback. Take this to her without being seen. The key to decoding the documents inside is 'remember to light a candle on your wedding night'. Repeat it."

The messenger did so three times. "I can be there in a few days if I can steal a fresh horse halfway, but it will take a while to locate one house in Cosium Town without drawing too much attention to myself with the questions."

"Just make sure this arrives," Farrell said. "The success of the war depends on it reaching its destination. Do you understand?"

"I know the importance of my job."

"Good. I'll inform Lord Jaxom that you left right away."

As he walked purposefully back to the house, Farrell tried not to act too relieved. If it worked, maybe the information would help Cosium. If it didn't…well, at least he tried. As he rounded the corner of Jaxom's house, he slipped into the shadows and found an item he had hidden earlier that day, keeping a wary eye out for guards.

Minutes later he was in the kennels, peering through the bars of one particular cell. "Lini? Are you awake?"

The magenta fox moved in the darkness, then her face appeared in the window. "Yes, Farrell?"

"I've found a way out! Today I got my hands on a key to the kennel doors." He shoved something into her hands. "I made an impression of it in that soap. Put it in your pocket. I'm sure tomorrow when they let you out for training you can make a stone copy without anyone noticing. It doesn't have to be metal—"

"Farrell, Lini cannot," she said in her soft, timid voice.

But he was talking too fast to listen. "I'm not sure where the key to the collars is kept, but I'll find some way to break yours once you're out, then we can free the slaves. I've heard the Coizards follow anyone who commands them."

"They won't get far."

"Yes, they _will_ ," he insisted. "Once your collar is off and if we can get our hands on some of those leashes, all we have to do is use Wind-users to gag the guards long enough to knock them out, then we can backtrack along the road. Cross the bridge and head north, following a stream that feeds into the river until we reach the foothills."

"The army has already conquered every village in this territory. Your people will not be free for long."

"There _**is**_ a place—a hidden village for alchemists who trained themselves secretly. My father brought me there when I was a child to visit my uncle. No one knows about it— _especially_ the barons. It took me half a day to get there, so it might be fifteen miles from the road. If we can just get out of the camp without anyone sounding the alarm I know we can make it!"

Lini stared at the thick bar of soap in her hands, its indention a perfect key-shape. "No. Lini cannot help you. If you can escape, you must do it without her assistance."

"I'm not leaving my countrymen here! They'll either be used against Cosium or killed by Jaxom. You're the only one who can help."

"Lini is not special. You can escape with—"

"Don't you understand what I've been telling you all this time?!" Farrell whispered, gripping the bars in desperation. "All the Coizards are thoughtless pawns, the camp followers are guarded closely, and the only other slaves here are Rofakian lapdogs—with the exception of _you_. There _**is**_ no one else!"

She looked down. "Lini… _cannot_. Take this back."

"Keep it until you're absolutely sure," he said, making no move to accept it, but she could see something defeated in the slope of his shoulders. No words passed between them for a little while. "Lini…if you do manage to escape someday, promise me you'll find my wife and daughters. I want them to know I love them more than anything."

"Farrell, you can go. You will make it out. Lini knows you will."

"No…" His voice was lifeless now. "Without your help, I'll never succeed. It may be too late already. Goodbye, Lini."

* * *

Trina answered the door, giving a welcoming smile to the hedgehog stranger who stood there. He held out a flat leather folder before she could say anything.

"Trina Stripeback, the key is 'remember to light a candle on your wedding night'."

She accepted the packet, her surprise obvious, but she inclined her head anyway, saying, "Thank you. I will remember."

He glanced around to make sure no one was looking, gave a strange salute, then darted into the nearest alley. Trina went into the sitting room where her young son and baby girl were napping and opened the folder. She puzzled through the first few sentences of one letter, her familiarity with reading rather poor, but within a minute her eyes went wide and she stuffed it back in.

Hiding it inside the pocket of her apron, Trina ran to a neighbor and asked her to keep an eye on the children before hurrying to the castle. Her husband had returned from his northern post several hours earlier and was currently in conference with the king, but she knew there was no time to waste.

She was admitted after stating it was an emergency and a soldier led her to the king's study. Her husband was speaking with the generals, the monarch and Lord Rakar as they discussed the position of their enemies and how best to keep them from advancing.

Alexei didn't notice her until she touched his arm. He looked startled and pulled her aside, whispering, "Trina? Is something wrong? Why aren't you home with the children?"

"Alexei, someone brought this to the house. I don't know who he was, but he gave me letters full of information about the army."

She handed him the packet and he glanced at the first page inside, his eyes growing large.

"Your Majesty, perhaps I am mistaken, but my wife seems to have gotten her hands on some interesting documents from the invaders."

A minute later everyone was clustered around him, going through the letters.

"Whoever wrote these has the worst handwriting I've ever seen," one of the generals commented. "Mistress Stripeback, who gave them to you?"

"A hedgehog I've never seen before. He acted as though I ought to know what this was. He also said something odd. 'Remember to light a candle on your wedding night'."

Alexei's head snapped around. "What?!"

"That's exactly what he said," she confirmed. "Does it mean something?"

The skunk closed his eyes. "Yes. A good friend from my hometown gave us a candle the day we got married. He said we were to light it that night and if it burned down without going out, it was an omen you and I would grow old together."

"Who was he?" Mortesen asked.

"Farrell Greeneyes. He went missing about six months ago. His wife sent a message begging me to help look for him, but the best I could do was send a couple squads to investigate. Nothing ever came of it." He looked down at the letters. "King Mortesen, somehow Farrell ended up in the enemy's camp and got his hands on the original letters. It explains why these are written in chicken-scratch. He was completely illiterate. I'm positive these copies are authentic."

Trina noticed Lord Rakar turn away from the table quickly, but she was sure he looked furious.

"There are over twenty letters here… Most of them are signed by 'Baron Jaxom'. Who is he?"

"The baron of Ruatha, King Mortesen. His family was killed in one of the earliest riots after your coronation. It seems he joined the opposing army. This letter here mentions several other Coizard nobles too."

Mortesen looked thunderstruck. "So that's how they know the lay of the land—where to strike and get supplies—why it's been so hard to fight them… They know all our tactics!"

The generals appeared worried. One stepped closer.

"My King, you know what this means. Everything will have to be altered. _Everything_. Every single battle plan, the organization of our troops, our main positions, our defenses…"

"Then we'd better get busy trying to change it all and rob them of their advantage." He paused. "There is someone feeding them information. Do any of you know a soldier named 'Gast'?"

They shook their heads.

"I don't want to do this, but I want to be absolutely certain we can trust each other. I want all of you to assure me you are not betraying us to Rofaki or Gardford."

The generals and captains all repeated the phrase, and once Mortesen was satisfied, he dismissed them except for Alexei. Rakar stood back, intensely grateful his brother had not included him in the circle.

The king turned to his friend. "What can you tell me about Farrell?"

Alexei shook his head slightly. "Nothing that's helpful in these circumstances, unfortunately. He was the leader of what I suppose you'd call a 'pack' of youngsters in Ruatha. Back when we had no choice but to work on Baron Jaxom's land, he was the best at stealing food and tools without getting caught. He knew how to act so mild that no one would pay any attention to him, but he was always planning."

"And you can't think of any way he might have ended up in the Rofakian army?"

The skunk shrugged helplessly. "No idea. The last time I saw him was three years ago when his son died. I don't know what happened to him after that."

Mortesen held up a wooden vial that had been tucked into the very bottom of the leather envelope. It was simple and rough, as though it had been carved by hand. He carefully pulled off the cork to smell its contents, brows creasing.

"What in the world…? Alexei, do me a favor and take this to a potion master—Drizzt, if he's available. I don't know why it was in here but it must be important. I want to find out what that is right away."

The two skunks left, then only the king and his brother occupied the room. The scarred hedgehog appeared upset, but Mortesen didn't blame him. He was angry himself.

"I've wondered since the beginning why most of the nobles refused to fight. Those letters politely refraining from battle for this or that reason… I thought it was nothing more than short-sighted revenge directed at me and that eventually they would come to their senses. I never would have expected them to invite our enemies into Cosium and join them."

"You know this is your fault, don't you?" Rakar said under his breath. "If you hadn't changed the laws, they wouldn't have been driven to desperation and done this."

Mortesen sighed with a heaviness that dragged down his shoulders. "I know…but so many of them were merciless with those under their care… They did it to themselves too. If they had only treated the peasants fairly then they wouldn't have been attacked in the first place. That's why many of the northeastern villages didn't harm their barons."

"Then maybe that's what you ought to have focused on instead of taking away everything from them at once," Rakar pointed out in a fierce tone. "If you had gradually changed things over a period of years by enacting laws for how the barons were to treat their serfs, maybe it would have worked out the way you planned."

"I just…I just wanted to do something that would please Athena."

"It was too radical, Brother," the other hedgehog said. "The peasants took full advantage of it. You could have given the nobles back their power before it was too late and—"

"Rakar, I told you years ago why I wouldn't do that. I didn't change my mind then and I'm not going to now." Mortesen's voice grew solid, unshakable. "What's done is done. Whether it was revenge or desperation driving them, I don't know, but I refuse to feel guilty. _They_ are the ones who made that choice, and they will pay for the lives they've destroyed by this treachery."

* * *

 **Later that night...**

Rakar slipped through the camp without being seen, shadows disguising him so thoroughly that he was completely invisible. Only one dog had lifted his head and sniffed curiously, but then went back to his game of dice with several other soldiers.

The house where Jaxom had taken up residence for the last few weeks was dark, but to one with his Element, everything was clear as day. He saw the cat sleeping in a bare spot in the corner of the room. Not bothering to be quiet, Rakar strode over and yanked him up. Jaxom heard a startled cry from his slave, but by the time he lit a candle to see what was happening, no one else was in the house.

Just outside the camp, shadows coalesced into two figures. Rakar released his prisoner and Farrell staggered away. When he turned to see who had infiltrated the place to seize him, his eyes took on a note of terror and he stood shaking, hardly able to breathe.

"Y-You!"

"Did you really think you would get away with it? Your little stunt ruined _years_ of planning! The barons will never regain their rightful property or social rank now."

The words gave Farrell enough courage to speak as he realized his scheme had worked. "At least I could do _that_. I never expected to live much longer anyway. It's why I waited until now to send the letters—that way the king got as many as possible since I knew I would never get another chance to send more."

"So you know what I am going to do to you, then?"

"I have an idea," he answered, standing up straight and clenching his teeth with stubborn resolve.

"Good. I'm glad you aren't foolish enough to entertain illusions of escape." Rakar fingered the dagger at his side, but then his mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile. "I told Jaxom how to make you suffer, but I didn't tell him about another phrase that would make you relive all those moments over and over until you die."

Every scrap of courage Farrell had mustered fled at the thought. "No… Not again! I can't stand it any longer! Kill me—but don't make me see it all again!"

The yellow cat turned to run but found a solid grip on his upper arm. He looked back into harsh red eyes that had no pity.

" _What is it you fear most?_ "

Rakar cloaked himself with shadows as soldiers came, called by the cat's incessant sobbing cries. He watched as they hauled him back to the camp.

Several slaves in the nearby kennels woke at the noise he continued to make. Lini stood at the bars of her window, staring into the night as she recognized Farrell's voice. Why was he crying out in such pain?!

It took far less than an hour before the endless circle of visions drove him beyond what his mind could handle. Once he stopped struggling and shouting, the soldiers left him chained beside a tent. Rakar approached, seeing the familiar blank stare of those whose sanity was gone. He touched the slave, tearing out half his soul and then ending it all with one plunge of his knife.

But then Rakar reeled back in surprise as he was assaulted with lingering images of the things he'd forced Farrell to experience. He felt it all—

— _fiery pain clawing his back as soldiers whipped him until he passed out—horror and hatred filling him as his sister tearfully admitted she had given her body to a noble—sinking beneath water, unable to breathe—a little kitten taking its last breath then his wife screaming with grief—a manor spitting flames as he shouted frantically, "They're trapped inside! Get them out!"—_

Other moments of sorrow, guilt and pain pulled on him, overshadowed by a life that was filled more with good intentions rather than hatred and greed. The hedgehog held a hand to his head, hard-pressed to keep the shadows close as he felt himself more affected by this one cat's past than any of the countless criminals he'd stolen from.

Someone walked around the corner of the tent and Rakar struck him in the back of the head with his dagger's hilt. The deer landed on the ground, knocked cold. He grabbed the soldier's wrist and transferred the soul to him before it could fully take root in himself. The images faded along with the beginning of a scar, leaving him with nothing more than a faint memory of what he'd seen in those few seconds.

All the effects of Farrell's soul would fade soon, long before the soldier woke up from that blow. No one would know he'd been used as a temporary host for unwanted memories.

Rakar shoved away the disturbing visions, casting a final glance at Farrell's lifeless form. At least this loose end was tied.

* * *

In the morning when the Rofakian slaves were released to eat breakfast, Lini took a seat nearest the guards. She ate slowly, lingering as long as possible. They were talking to each other and she couldn't help overhearing their words.

"The king says there are too many wilders and too few handlers. He's been goading the princess to cull the weak ones but she keeps refusing."

Another soldier snorted. "I heard in the weaklings' camp each handler has to teach eight at once, and some can hardly do anything more useful than light a candle. A waste of resources. The alchemists have to make whole barrels of the addling potion, all for four thousand slaves who won't be much help in battle. But we can't release them because they're _soldiers_."

"Lugius doesn't need his daughter's approval to get rid of them. I saw an alchemist collecting nightshade roots and it wouldn't surprise me if most of the weaklings simply didn't wake up one morning. Solves the problem well enough. They won't go flocking back to King Mortesen and we don't have to feed them anymore."

The nearby slave tensed. Was it true? Could they be planning to…? No, she couldn't think about that now. There was something else she needed to know.

Finally garnering enough courage, the fox stood and gave a deep bow to a handler. "Please, Master… Last night Lini heard cries. They frightened Lini. Did someone get hurt?"

The handler shrugged, answering, "A slave belonging to one of the Coizard nobles tried to escape. They say there was something wrong in his head because almost every night he had odd fits, but last night he snapped. Strangest part is that someone killed him. Stabbed right in the heart. His master was furious, but I wouldn't be surprised if he really did the deed himself. I certainly wouldn't want a slave who kept me up with his yelling at night."

He cleared his throat and straightened, suddenly remembering what Lini was and it was not seemly to gossip with a low class.

"Well, it's nearly training time."

He hurried off, leaving Lini sitting there unable to move or think or even hear anything around her. Farrell was dead…

* * *

Rakar didn't have anyone to vent on. He couldn't share any of this with even his most trusted men, and taking out his frustration by visiting the prison was more likely to result in accidentally driving most of the criminals insane. There was only one person he could speak to about the matter.

Which was why he went to the cave near the southern border of the Forbidden Forest. Nymph was already waiting.

"Unusual for you to be so somber, Rakar," she said, a pair of tentacles carefully sliding behind him without making contact. "You know you can always talk to me."

He kept it short, describing the situation with Farrell and how it ruined his plans to restore the barons and help Cosium's villages recover from eight years of unrestrained self-governing.

"It was so perfect… Everything would have worked out if that blasted cat hadn't revealed they were the ones directing the movements of the Gardfordian and Rofakian armies. I'm fortunate my name wasn't on any of the letters."

The octopus-creature folded her hands. "Then there is no choice. The peasantry must be crushed entirely to make way for your nobles in their restoration to power. That could take many more years than you planned."

"Mortesen would never allow it," he sighed with frustration. "He and Athena are always so attentive to reports, even those from the smallest villages. There is no way I could change enough of the country to make a difference and keep it from him."

"...You could always manipulate him too."

Rakar's red eyes darted toward her. "I can't."

"Why not?"

The fact that he couldn't stand the idea of doing such a thing to his brother felt like an admission of weakness, so he lied.

"We are related too closely. Not only would he sense what I did, but the attempt would compromise my plans." To distract her from this train of thought, Rakar pulled a pouch from his inner pocket and offered it to her. "A gift for you. My brother ordered me to throw them away, but I have to admit it's a difficult thing to do."

" _Oh my_ ," Nymph marveled at the large rubies inside. "You certainly know how to charm a girl, Rakar. Maybe I can give you something in return."

Her tentacles shriveled away, and moments later she wore the likeness of a hedgehog. She still had on the mask, though the lower half of her body lacked any covering, which made Rakar grow abruptly uncomfortable with the situation. Nymph's creamy, peach-colored fur and long black tresses were quite fetching on a hedgehog.

"Come, Rakar. Kiss me just this once," she coaxed, taking his hand and guiding it around her waist as she pressed her bare form against his side. "I _promise_ you'll like it."

"Nymph…" he started slowly, "I received a message from the Superior yesterday. He has a task for you in the southern seas that will take several years to complete. As soon as your work in this war is done, you're to leave."

She released him, her voice turning bitter as she spoke through gritted teeth. "Always at his beck and call… I don't suppose I have a choice."

"Doubtful."

"Very well." She took out one of the Firedrop Rubies and gave it back to Rakar. "Do me a favor and have that made into a necklace. A _fine_ one."

"Any particular reason?" he wondered, slipping it back into his robe.

"Call it vanity," she replied. Nymph tilted her head to one side, surveying him with eyes that he could not see past the mask. "Rakar, you do find me attractive, don't you?"

His hesitant nod made her smile.

"Then what is it keeping you from me?"

The red-brown hedgehog considered the words and she waited patiently until he had an answer. "My father was the finest man who ever walked this earth. He repeatedly told me that I had a responsibility to Cosium, to my bloodline, and to myself. I won't dishonor myself by making love to any woman who is not my wife, and I will not defile my bloodline by marrying any woman who is not at least a noble."

"I see…" she whispered, but there wasn't any regret in the tone. If anything, she sounded… _excited_. "Now I think we understand one another. I'm willing to play the game."

"Which is?"

"Finding out _exactly_ how far we can go without besmirching your honor."

Nymph was directly in front of him again, arms wrapping loosely around his shoulders. Rakar reached up, catching her chin. Then he gave a half-smile and leaned forward to meet her lips. They parted after over a minute of intense kissing and Rakar stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers before leaving silently. Nymph's form returned to that of an octopus and she gazed after him, looking pleased.

* * *

 **That night in the Rofakian encampment...**

Lini's heart pounded. Twenty-four hours earlier she'd woken to Farrell's tormented cries. The army would begin moving out that very next day and there was no time left. She reached through her cell door's window and shoved the stone key she'd made into the lock. There was a successful click.

Limbs shaking, Lini scampered from shadow to shadow. Princess Lefae stayed in a house at the edge of the kennels. There were no guards posted here, so no one noticed the little figure darting through the moonlight.

When she slid open the unlocked door of the princess's quarters, the fox found herself in complete darkness. A full two minutes passed before she could force herself to move, even after her eyes had adjusted. A fine bed was across the room, and the sound of steady breaths revealed that its occupant was heavily asleep.

Lini knew where the key was. She took a step toward the closet, but stopped in alarm when a board creaked beneath her bare foot. Everything sounded so loud in the dead stillness of night that she held her breath and minced forward. Finally she reached it and groped inside blindly. Cool steel touched her fingertips and Lini seized the key.

A dull, metallic noise echoed in the silence, then the slave carefully set down her collar, hands trembling. She felt small and alone…unprotected. Still, she knew what had to be done.

There was a dress draped across the chair beside her and the magenta fox piled all the leashes she could grab into it, wrapping them in the fabric to keep the metal from making too much noise as she carried them out. Not until she was hidden in the shadow of a kennel did she breathe easier.

Lini pulled out three leashes, then used her Earth abilities to warp the remaining ones into a mangled collection of twisted metal. It was also possible the slaves would be more likely to obey her if she didn't look like one of them, so she changed into the princess's dress, casting the gray robe aside forever.

Waking some Wind-wielders and snapping the leashes to their collars was harder than she imagined. Not because of them—they were perfectly obedient—but because she had been trained her entire life to be docile and follow orders without question. Giving orders was…terrifying. How did others do it without second-guessing or—

No. She _would_ do this. For Farrell. For her only friend in the world.

* * *

 **A/N: You guys have no idea how hard it was for me to kill Farrell, but ever since he was introduced I knew it was inevitable he'd have to die. He knew _Rakar_ was the one responsible for the nobles joining the Rofakians and Gardfordians…and that knowledge is pretty much a death sentence. But as you can see, his sacrifice was possibly the one thing that could have motivated Lini to act.**

 **I hope y'all enjoyed Darren's heart-to-heart with Mortesen. It's quite possibly my favorite scene in the entire story and I tried so hard to make it feel sincere. As for Rakar's relationship with Nymph, that is not official—it's just something I threw in because of a conversation I had with someone about those two.**


	8. Cosium Rebounds

_**Chapter 8: Cosium Rebounds**_

Princess Lefae heard the commotion and roused herself. It was still dark, but there was the faintest sign of dawn in the east. Someone pounded on her door and she testily bade them enter. A Lord-Commander came in, looking relieved to see her.

"Princess, we were afraid to find you dead or injured."

"Me? Why?" the collie demanded, standing up and throwing a loose robe over her nightgown.

"Because three hours ago a girl attacked every guard stationed around the camp perimeter. Several of them recognized her dress as yours, and she had some Wind-users on leashes."

Lefae looked around, noticing that the dress she usually wore when not training her Light-wielder was missing from the chair where she'd set it the night before. And the closet beside it was open. She darted across the room, yanking it wide to confirm the theft. Every leash was missing, along with the key. An open collar lay on the floor by her feet.

"A slave. One of them sneaked in here and stole everything," she said, jaw clenching. "Where is this girl now?"

"She knocked out the guards, tied and gagged them, but one woke up in time to see her lead most of the slaves from the camp. They traveled back toward the bridge. The only slaves we have left here are the thirty or so brought from Rofaki."

She shoved past him, striding up the rows of kennels. Torches had been lit and soldiers hurried every which way. The collie's suspicions were confirmed when she found a particular cell among the Rofakian slaves empty. The Lord-Commander had followed her dutifully and she turned to him.

"Who has been sent after them?"

His eyebrows shot upward. "No one yet. Princess, there are over _three hundred_ magic-users out there—the strongest ones we had!"

The number daunted her too, but she growled, " _I'm_ going. Find ten good riders and have them meet me in the horse lines. I doubt my father will be pleased with the delay as it is, and all we can do is scout them out until a method to retrieve them is organized. We can't afford to lose those slaves!"

Hours later they returned—tired, hungry, filthy and empty-handed. Lugius strode toward his daughter who was still wearing nothing but her nightgown and robe.

"Well?" the king demanded, though the answer was obvious by their defeated appearances.

She dismounted and went inside her quarters but he followed her. A washbasin and towel had been set on the table for her along with a porcelain pitcher of drinking water and some fruit. The king's fingers tapped on the wood in a irritated way as she drank three full cups and washed her sweaty face.

"We searched the road for more than five miles. They couldn't have outrun us even with a three-hour lead. Not in the dark and not with that many people. They must have left the road, though we couldn't find any side-paths. I suspect their leader is blazing a trail through the woods, but there were no signs that we could see."

"Flaming Styphon!" he cursed, kicking the chair before she could sit down on it. "How can _everyone_ be so bloody useless?!"

Her golden eyes flashed. "Always so quick to blame everyone else, aren't you, Father? None of the Coizards had the mental capacity to plan this. It _had_ to be one of ours. Or perhaps I should say one of _yours_."

Lugius's eyes narrowed but she glared back, not cowed by his anger because she had plenty of her own fermenting inside.

"Only a coward and a bully strikes someone helpless when he does not get what he wants. Even a _slave_ knows that. The bruise on Lini's face speaks for your temper." His daughter bared her teeth. "Why did you shame her by stripping her status? Because she refused to let you _bed her?_ "

"It's none of your business what I do in my own time, Lefae," the jackal growled, hands closing into tight fists.

"In this case it is. You drove her to this! And now everyone knows it's your fault even if they won't say it aloud." Her voice dripped with pure derision as she sneered at him, " _My father_ , the faithless wretch who is the greatest disgrace the Crown of Rofaki has ever known!"

The king grabbed her roughly by the arm and raised his hand to slap but she lifted her chin in defiance.

"Go ahead," she dared. "Prove me right."

Lugius shoved her away. "Just like your bloody mother…"

The princess caught herself on the table, straightening to give him another glare. "Strange. She says I'm just like you."

It took every shred of control he had to keep from lashing out at her. The fear of further embarrassment and the strong possibility that her accusations were true were all that prevented the jackal's eruption.

"You have pushed me to the limits of my patience, Daughter. No one speaks to me that way— _ **no one**_. Gather your possessions and go to the southwest slave camp. Maybe you can make use of the weaklings."

Lefae didn't speak. She could see the dangerous spark in his eyes and knew she had gone too far already. After a tense moment or two she offered a quick bow, accepting the punishment. He started for the door, but paused with his hand on the knob and spoke without looking at her.

"Lefae, your assistance in this war was to be rewarded with a tract of land and a certain amount of sovereignty. Consider that agreement null. Your marriage will be arranged as soon as Cosium is under my rule—if anyone will accept a little _harlot_ like you, that is."

Door closing behind him, King Lugius let out a throaty laugh. The princess stood in her room, stiff with shock for an instant before her emotions took over. She crossed over to the door and locked it securely, then collapsed on her bed. Sobs jerked her shoulders as she did her best to keep from screaming in rage. Her one hope for freedom… _gone_.

* * *

 _ **The next morning…**_

After a full day of discussions and deliberation, the captains and generals reconvened in King Mortesen's study to talk. Many of them had been teleported in for this very reason and the room was filled to capacity.

"The problem I see," a black- and white-banded raccoon began as they quieted for the meeting, "is that magic has always been the secondary approach in battle. Everyone looks to their weapons rather than Elements first during combat unless otherwise ordered."

"But isn't that the honorable route?" the fox captain beside him interrupted. "Our enemies so seldom have magic that to use it against them is a shameful form of battle. We have trained the troops to use it only as a last resort."

"Our present enemies do not have that disadvantage. For much of our history Cosium has been able to hold off its attackers easily," a brown wolf spoke up. "We had the superior force when it came to magic, but we didn't necessarily need it until now."

Another captain nodded then added, "For as long as Cosium has had a standing army, the squads have been set up to include at least two soldiers who are proficient with their Elements, though Lightning and Fire are the most common. Others are hardly ever used, and _never_ cultivated."

"In Marcuria," Athena began slowly, drawing everyone's attention, "I remember my father's personal troops were divided by Element. There weren't many who could use magic since our country had nothing like the Cosmos Diamond, but they all helped each other and worked together so they could protect the castle as a single unit."

"It's never quite been that way in Cosium," a general on the other side of the room said. "Because almost everyone has magic to some extent or another, anything they know is usually guarded jealously if they can help it."

"I've seen towns with three different Fire-wielding families who only know a few techniques, but won't show anything in public because they don't want anyone to steal their secrets."

"That's certainly the way it is," Alexei confirmed. "The only reason I'm as proficient in Lightning as I am is because Captain Sorrel took it upon himself to train me when I first became a recruit."

Mortesen listened without comment for several minutes, absorbing the information as the generals and captains each submitted comments and observations. At last he stood, prompting silence as every eye turned toward him.

"This hoarding of techniques must stop. I want the army to be unified. Have everyone list their Elements and strengths right away. I want the squads reassigned the way Athena described. All level threes will focus their talents on weaponry since they will be more effective that way, but there will be a couple level one wielders in each group of level twos. I want them to teach each other—and no competing! If one group learns something that could be beneficial, they are to spread that knowledge immediately. Cosium's very survival is at stake. We can't waste any potential resources or tactics no matter how small."

They covered several minor matters before being dismissed to begin their new work. Rakar tried to speak with him, but Mortesen gave him a job and asked that it be finished right away. Athena also left to speak with Lieutenant Guinevere since they were both Nature-wielders, so the king was able to have some blessed time to himself. For a few minutes.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," a soldier said from the doorway, his fist raised in salute. "Someone arrived several minutes ago. He has… I'm not sure how to describe his message."

Mortesen faced him, shoving off the weariness of dealing with yet another interruption. "What exactly did he say?"

"That his village has something of great value to you. They will relinquish it on a condition he would not disclose to me."

"I will listen to his proposal, but I will not promise anything before knowing what he has."

A minute later the soldier brought a middle-aged porcupine into the study. His long, spiked quills were red speckled with white. The moment he saw Mortesen, he dropped to one knee.

"Sire, my name is Tegus and I hail from Titor's Garden. You would not have heard of my home, but we are true Coizards and your loyal subjects. My village is kept secret so that our people could learn to use non-Elemental magic, alchemy and potions without interference from the barons."

"I see."

Mortesen listened attentively, finding nothing untrue so far. It made sense. The barons had always been opposed to peasants learning to do anything useful with their magic, especially since it gave them the potential to fight back. He could not blame some of them for sneaking off into the hills to learn.

He folded his arms. "Am I mistaken to assume you would like to keep your freedom and secrecy in exchange for giving something to me?"

"You have correctly guessed my purpose here, Sire. But to be perfectly honest, we do not know whether you will be pleased with what we have to offer," the porcupine said, still kneeling. "Yesterday morning a group of slaves arrived at Titor's Garden. There are over three hundred, most of them very likely soldiers. They were led there by a Rofakian slave—"

"Was his name Farrell?" Mortesen demanded, leaning forward.

The porcupine blinked at his king's eagerness. "…No. It was a young vixen who called herself Lini, but she said she received directions to our sanctuary from someone named Farrell. The slaves… We don't know what is wrong with them. They do not seem to remember anything about themselves and speak very strangely as though they have been hypnotized."

At once Mortesen's eyes widened. "That potion… Tegus, come with me."

Confused, he got to his feet and hurried after the black hedgehog. They went down a winding stairwell until they were well below the main floor of the castle. A hallway stretched open before them with at least a dozen rooms branching off from it. The sounds of discussion and muttered spells could be heard drifting from most, and there was the pungent aroma of strange scents, some of which threatened to burn his nose.

Mortesen went straight to one and stood in the doorway, saying, "Master Drizzt, have you completed your analysis of that potion yet?"

A large, horned creature turned slowly away from a table covered with a complicated apparatus that boiled and frothed with many different tubes and beakers. As he faced them, Tegus was surprised by his strong bovine features. He'd never seen a yak in Cosium before. There were long, beaded strings hanging from his belt; a popular style in Ayortha if he remembered correctly.

"Your Highness, hmm… I have little to add since last night's report," he said in a deep, thrumming voice. "I can only give you my educated guess. Hmm… It is difficult to say precisely how it will affect the mind of one who drinks it without experimenting on someone."

"That is unnecessary. Apparently there is a village full of escaped slaves who were dosed with it. My question is whether there is a way to restore them to their right minds."

"Oh, of course, of course," Master Drizzt rumbled. "Depending on how long they were given the potion and in what quantity, they may wake from it… hmm… in a few days or more than a week. It will fade away naturally as long as they do not drink it again."

"Is there a way to speed up the process?"

"Hmm...hmm…" The yak chewed his cud and looked over the apparatus on his table, bending his head at an angle that looked rather awkward. "A detoxification spell would most likely do it."

The king turned to Tegus. "Are you willing to learn the spell and have your people heal my men? If so, I will grant Titor's Garden permanent autonomy. Your responsibility to the Crown will be in educating those in your care instead of monetary. You may keep your location as secret as you please, but I do ask for the right to contact you in the event of emergencies."

The porcupine stared. Of all the things he'd expected, this was too daring a proposition to even entertain when the village sent him to the castle to negotiate. But King Mortesen had practically handed it to him with no strings. Perhaps they had been wrong to mistrust this monarch, but secrecy had been the mantra of the village for nearly four generations…

"Yes, we can do it."

"Good. I'll have a pledge written up to be signed by your elders before you teleport back. I would like to be informed of my men's progress once your people begin curing them. That girl—Lini you called her?—bring her here as soon as you can. I want to know everything she can tell me about the Rofakians."

Tegus didn't even realize his jaw was hanging open. The king knew he had teleported? And he treated it as though it was _perfectly natural?_ Even his own people were nervous about the idea, and they had been practicing live teleportation for years.

"Master Drizzt will show you everything you need to know. Return to my study when you are ready." Mortesen looked around as though suddenly remembering something. "I have to go. My youngest is waiting for me."

He hurried back up the stairs, but waited in the upper hallway until he saw a servant. One came strolling along a minute later, not even noticing him until he spoke. "Girl, your name is…?"

"Eliza, Sire," the pink hedgehog said, bobbing a curtsy as she balanced a tray of silverware badly in need of polishing.

"Eliza," he repeated, peering at her more closely. "Aren't you a gypsy? The one Darren told me about?"

She looked down, giving a shy nod.

"Don't be embarrassed, dear girl. He only told me good things about you!" Mortesen laughed, taking the tray from her and setting it on a nearby table. "Someone else will take care of that. I need you to go to the kitchens and have them make a picnic lunch for two, then please bring it to the arbor in the garden."

Two minutes after he sent her off, the king saw Darren beneath the trees. A thin vine had sprouted from the ground, coiling into a complicated knot as the young prince bit his lip and held out a wand toward it. With one final flick the entire plant dissipated into the air and he sat back, looking pleased as he placed the wand in his belt. He looked genuinely surprised when he heard someone clapping and looked back to see his father.

"You really came!" he cried, jumping up.

"Didn't I promise I'd spend more time with you?" He ruffled his son's quills. "Your mother is busy and Kaze hasn't been keeping up with his work lately, so he has to stay indoors today. It's just the two of us right now."

Darren gave him a lopsided grin. "It _**is**_ nice to be alone with you, Papa."

They had hardly begun their conversation when Eliza found them. She set her tray down on the grass and curtsied once more. After she left, Mortesen noticed his son uncharacteristically silent. His eyes traveled from Darren to the path Eliza had taken, then back again.

"Are you really that enchanted with her?"

The younger hedgehog practically buried his face in a tart to avoid answering. But Mortesen smiled down at him, in a sudden mood for teasing.

"I wonder if she would make a good wife. She seems kind and capable. Oh, I know, I know!" he said before Darren could stammer out any response. "You're not even thinking of that sort of thing at your age."

Swallowing everything in his mouth with one great gulp, Darren rubbed an arm across his red cheeks. "I… I _like_ her. Honest."

Mortesen blinked, the amused smile fading slightly. He had expected his son to deny it and insist there was nothing whatsoever between them. If there _was_ …

"Darren, you're a prince, but before that you're to be a gentleman. You should treat every woman with deference and courtesy. Wait a few years, and if what you truly feel for her is more than friendship, I want you to be honorable in your pursuit of her hand. Do you understand?"

The five-year-old slowly raised his eyes up to meet his father's, finally admitting, "...A _little_."

"I mean I don't want you taking advantage of her. She's poor and young. Her head is easily turned by someone of your station. She might even be convinced she loves you when she doesn't. You have a responsibility to be truthful to both yourself and her." He gave a deep sigh. "And I suspect it won't be long before you're able to use your Third Eye. You'll _know_ how she really feels about you then."

Darren tentatively reached up, feeling the outer ridges of his extra eye. "What do you mean, Papa?"

"Someday it will let you read hearts." He mussed Darren's quills again, this time with only half a smile. "I wish I knew more. Don't worry, though—we'll figure it out."

The fact that he'd said "we" rather than "you" made all the difference. Now Darren didn't feel so lost or alone when it came to his unusual Royal Gift. On sudden impulse, the young prince threw his arms around Mortesen, surprising him.

"I'm glad you're my papa."

His father stroked his back and leaned slightly against him. "I'm glad you're my son. I always have been, and I always will be."

* * *

 _ **Hours later…**_

Prydain stared upward at roof beams that hung with dried herbs. He felt as though his head had been stuffed full with scratchy hay and he was just now clear of it. An old possum knelt over him, her hands pressed against his chest.

"Granny, that's enough for today," a little voice said off to one side. "You've already healed over twenty of them. Leave the rest to someone else."

The possum breathed heavily, leaning against the bed where Prydain was lying. "Just one more, dear. Then I'll stop."

"You said that fifteen minutes ago!"

"No one should have their thoughts robbed of them," she insisted, starting to pull herself up.

Prydain grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"Sir, please let go of my granny," a pale pink possum about the age of eight told him. "If you want answers, you can go outside with your companions who also want to know what is happening."

The hedgehog glanced between them briefly, then focused on the elderly one's face. "I can see magic fatigue clouding your eyes, Mistress. You've done me a great favor. Now do yourself one and stop."

She blinked. "I… I suppose you may be right."

The young possum gave him a relieved smile and mouthed "thank you!" then Prydain left through the door. A spotted pig outside saw him exit the house and waved him over, a key in his hand.

"Welcome to Titor's Garden, friend. Hold still and I'll have that collar off in a moment. It's the easiest way to tell the ones who are fine apart from the ones who still need to undergo the detoxification."

Once the collar was off, Prydain pulled in what felt like the deepest breath he'd taken since the ambush. He walked away from the pig, rubbing his neck. All the questions of what happened and where he was didn't seem so urgent. The mere knowledge that he was _free_ now… For the moment all he wanted to do was bask in that thought.

The orange hedgehog walked past others who sat alone or in small groups, mostly staring at the ground in disbelief. His feet led him aimlessly through the village, barely noticing the ones who lived there as they dutifully offered soup to their visitors or tried to talk with them. Only a few responded to the attention with smiles. The rest were almost mechanical, lost in their thoughts.

Prydain looked for a place to sit and saw a girl off to one side. She was hunched over her knees, and though she wasn't wearing a slave robe, he knew immediately she was from the kennels.

Her blue eyes flicked up in surprise as he settled down beside her. "I hope you don't mind company. My name is Prydain."

"Lini knows. Farrell told Lini about you."

He twitched at the sound of her accent, but her words seemed to answer some of the questions he had. A relieved smile crossed his face. "So the cat actually managed to free us. I honestly didn't think he could. Where is he?"

The dusty pink vixen hid her face once more, shrinking down. "...Dead. Lini let him die because she was too scared… It is Lini's fault."

His smile faded into sympathy. He had only met Farrell four times when the cat brought him clean water at night, but it was still a shock to find out he was gone. This girl had clearly had an attachment to him.

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a fine man."

"He wouldn't leave. He could have…but he told Lini he promised to save the other slaves. It wasn't right to let them be…be _used_ by the masters." Lini slowly raised her head, tears making trails down her cheeks. "Prydain, the weakest of your people the masters caught don't have much time. Lini knows they were planning to kill them soon."

The hedgehog was still whirling from unexpected freedom and the news of Farrell's death. This information made his mind snap into sudden clarity. He found out everything he could from her about the camp where the weak ones were kept, then hurried back along the street until he was in the center, surrounded by nearly a hundred of his comrades.

"There are thousands of our fellows back there who will be killed unless we rescue them," he announced in a loud voice. "I'm going. And I vow to make the Rofakians regret _everything_ they've done."

In one movement he stripped off the slave robe and threw it to the ground. The clothing represented humiliations he would never let himself suffer again, and it didn't surprise him when others followed his example. Then a Fire-wielder set the pile ablaze, making dark, putrid smoke fill the air. All the former slaves gazed at the fire with anger that burned just as hot.

Rofaki would pay.

* * *

 _ **That evening…**_

"What are you doing?" Lefae demanded of an alchemist as he approached the huge trough of water. The light was fading, but there was still enough to see by.

"What I do every night, Princess," the brown cougar answered. But she could see the smallest prickle of nervousness in his face.

She grabbed the bottle before he could pull back and smelled it, nose wrinkling. "That isn't the addling potion. What is it?"

"I'm only following orders," he hurried to say. "It's been altered to…make it easier to deal with the slaves."

"Then why don't I watch you drink it first? Since it's harmless, you should be fine in a day or two." His eyes went wide and he tried to reply, but she grabbed his wrist. "Do you think I'm an idiot?! If I catch any of the alchemists trying that again, I'll dump it down your throats!"

The cougar bowed quickly and rushed away. Lefae looked at the bottle in her hands and poured it out. Nightshade extract. The stuff would have sent most of the slaves into a sleep they couldn't wake up from, and the rest wouldn't be able to move. Irreversible effects.

Her eyes turned to the large barns that had been constructed to house over three thousand soldiers who were virtually useless on the battlefield. Her father must have commanded them to be…dealt with. They were going to die if they stayed here much longer and ultimately she couldn't do anything about it.

But just suppose she _could?_

There were no guards in sight and all the handlers were eating in the mess hall. Lefae quickly walked to the smallest barn where the weak Water- and Ice-wielders were kept. There weren't many of either compared to most of the other Elements, but the Rofakians had gathered a couple hundred.

No sooner had she lifted the latch on the door than the collie found herself trapped by invisible wires. Something pressed tightly from every angle, keeping her mouth from opening in alarm. Three figures came out of the shadows, one with the blue glow of Wind magic around his hands.

For a moment she was terrified that the handlers suspected that she was going to release the slaves, but as they approached she realized they couldn't possibly be Rofakians. They wore loose shirts bound at the waist with belts and there was an anger in their faces that made her wary.

"It's the princess," a goat said, then spat at her. The spittle landed squarely on her left cheek, but she couldn't even move to wipe it off. "Are you scared, puppet-master?"

A thick-furred bear grabbed her by the chin and said with a strain of sarcasm, "I'd like to _thank_ you for the brand. I'll return the favor."

Lefae's eyes widened as she caught sight of the black tattoo burned into his arm. On _all_ of them. A strangled noise pushed out of her throat as his hand began to glow red, but footsteps diverted their attention.

"Easier than catching chickens in a net," someone said behind her. "The handlers won't be a problem now. They didn't know we were there until Grady grabbed…"

The princess wouldn't have turned even if she'd been able to move. She knew his voice. And obviously he recognized her. His abrupt silence was telling. After an instant of dead silence his boots stomped closer and the Wind-user released his magic on her just as Prydain yanked her around to face him. His brown eyes drilled into golden ones, her breath catching at the sight of intense rage.

Wind laced with threads of fire whipped around them as she tried to get away, but his grip only tightened. Tripping her so that she slammed hard into the ground, he managed to hold her down while Lefae's magic floundered. An instant later something cool and metallic slipped around her neck, closing with a grim _click_. Lefae clutched at the collar as cruel laughter from the former slaves mocked her. Magic skittered just out of reach, tauntingly close, but she knew there was no point in trying to touch it.

"I want this one," Prydain said with the barest snarl. The hedgehog snapped a lead chain to her and gave it a tug. "What lovely fur. I think I'll call her _Moondark_."

The princess didn't say a word, obediently rising to her feet and keeping her head down. A feeling of complete helplessness overwhelmed her as the chuckles echoed all around.

"Prydain, you know we can't take all these soldiers to the village," the bear said. "There isn't enough housing or supplies."

"Of course not, but we don't need to go anywhere. We're going to force the Rofakians to start moving. They'll have no choice but to abandon this slave camp, and it's not important enough for them to expend too much effort trying to keep." He gestured toward other groups of figures who were slipping through the place now. "Get all the Nature-wielders who came and have them build a wall of thorns around the perimeter. I'm taking twenty of the best we brought. The camp followers need to be rescued, then once they're free we'll get the rest of our magic-wielders. After that we'll attack the main encampment itself."

Agreement ran around the circle. "They taught us to use our magic. Let's give them a taste of it to show exactly how grateful we are!"

Lefae listened silently, her thoughts raising though she couldn't quite say why. It had seemed as though there was no way to escape the inevitable tide of Rofakian lords with their plan to tame these foreign wilders and use them as weapons against their own kind. Knowing they were fighting back filled her with a strange feeling of satisfaction rather than dread. Had she really been trained from infancy to defer so easily to someone who had power over her?

...Or was it something else? Could it be…she truly no longer wanted Rofaki to conquer Cosium?

* * *

 _ **Two days later...**_

"Who is leading them?" Mortesen asked Tegus.

"I don't know," the porcupine answered. "They follow several captains among them, but I haven't heard any names mentioned. It's seldom they return to Titor's Garden now that all the soldiers have recovered. All the civilians who didn't go along remained with us, however. They're too shaken to leave at present."

The black hedgehog took a breath and let it out, gazing at the map. An ivory hawk marked the position of Lugius's army, nearly thirty miles from where it had been two days ago. The escaped slaves had been harrying them, laying traps and whittling down their numbers ever since they had regained their senses. Fleeing was all the Rofakians could do against such fierce attacks fueled by revenge.

"Do you know how many people they still have leashed?"

"The last report the soldiers sent to me said the Rofakians have thirty very strong magic-users and nearly five hundred average ones. All the others they managed to get free are being kept in a large slave camp until they recover."

"That's still far too many on the enemy's side for my taste." The king looked at the doorway to the room adjoining his study. "What about Lini?"

Tegus dipped his head in embarrassment. Lini's response at being ushered into Mortesen's presence had been…unexpected. The moment she saw his crown she let out a yelp and crumpled flat against the floor, unwilling to so much as raise her eyes to look at him. After several attempts to pull her up and get her to do anything other than whimper had failed, Athena came in and practically carried the girl to the next room.

"I don't know. Some of the others say she is a great Earth-user, but she won't speak about herself or demonstrate what she can do. We can't even find out what she wants to do with her life now that she's free. And if anyone mentions the Rofakians she nearly collapses."

The door opened just as he finished speaking. The queen gave her husband a tired smile. "Lini thinks you were going to chop her head off. She was scared half to death." Athena cast a rueful look at Tegus. "You could have at least _warned_ her."

He seemed nervous beneath her gaze. "She expressed such reticence when I mentioned the king wanted to see her that I had to be a bit…creative about convincing her to come. He told me to bring her. I did," Tegus added defensively.

"I thank you for that," the king said. "You can return home with an order for the troops. Tell them I need volunteers to come and teach the Coizard army how to use magic effectively. I need them here by tomorrow."

Tegus offered a deep bow and then the porcupine was escorted out by a soldier. Mortesen turned to his wife, saying, "Do you think Lini would be able to help teach any of our men?"

Athena slowly shook her head. "She's too timid. The only reason she did what she did was because of Farrell and his kindness toward her. She said as soon as she finds his family and gives them his message she's going to leave. I doubt she will ever want anything to do with fighting again." Her expression became concerned. "The things those Rofakians had her do… She's killed hundreds of people, Mortesen. It didn't bother her back then because that was her purpose. Lini was taught to feel nothing except the eagerness to please her masters. Now… I'm afraid for her. She's so fragile."

The king held her hands tenderly. "Do me a favor and tell her how grateful I am for doing all she could. Without her bravery, I don't know that we ever would have had much hope."

* * *

 _ **Three days later, northeast of Cosium Castle…**_

Figures meandered around the camp, going about their morning chores. Just over a hundred tents fluttered slightly in the wind and fires had been kindled, sending up thin trails of smoke into the lightening sky.

The place they'd chosen to establish it was in a set of intersecting canyons, and it would have been a well-protected site if no one knew they were there. If an enemy knew, the blind canyons made it difficult to anticipate an attack.

Thousands of Gardfordians crept closer, watching for sentries but surprisingly finding none. Their captains laughed among themselves quietly, thinking the fool Coizards must be so assured of their safety that they didn't even set anyone on watch.

On their signal, the front lines rushed into camp, slicing through tents and shouting battle cries. Those who were awake gave horrified shouts and fled. Thirty Coizard soldiers ran as fast as they could to the farthest side of the camp, but by the time the foremost Gardfordians reached it, the ones they had pursued were… _gone_. All the attackers saw was a circle with a complicated design etched into the dirt.

The other soldiers realized within moments that something was wrong when they found every tent deserted. They exchanged looks with each other, anxiety beginning to build. The army milled uncertainly, their war cries dying into silence. Every captain looked about, wondering what sort of trick this was. One happened to look up.

Two figures stood on the lip of the cliff wall, silhouetted by the sky as it grew brighter behind them. They made no movement, but somehow the captain knew they were staring down with smirks lighting their faces.

"Fall back!" he shouted to his men, expecting arrows to come streaking down in a deadly rain.

Already sensing that they had been lured into a trap, the soldiers lost no time obeying. But with three thousand men, the orders had to make their way to the rear lines before the retreat could fully begin. Squirrels, weasels, ferrets and other rodents jammed together in a disorganized mass, slowly shifting backward.

The only warning they had was a low, rumbling noise from one of the intersecting canyons behind them. Then a huge wave swept forward, carrying away everyone in its path. The push of the crowd changed direction once more as the men desperately thrust themselves back from the water. Captains and lieutenants shouted orders, trying to get things under control. But then the roar of water grew louder, coming from a different canyon. Many of them saw it and were filled with despair as a larger wave rushed to meet them with inescapable force.

The two figures stood at the top of the canyon wall, watching men struggle to stay above the water only to be dragged down by their armor as the current carried them away. Lieutenant Tristan was grim, trying to keep from growing sick in front of his superior.

"Fine work," Captain Wulfenbach said. "It was a good plan."

The beaver's jaw was clenched so tightly that it felt like stone. "As long as the dams broke at the right time, you hardly needed me."

"Not so. My men and I know the earth, Lieutenant. We don't know the water. It was only with your assistance that this trap was sprung so smoothly. And you were the one who pointed out that Queen Martharine always sends a huge force after any of our men they spy out. It wouldn't surprise me if you were promoted to captain soon."

"If this is the reason, then I will gladly deny the honor," Tristan said without any emotion. "I will not accept any praise for murdering so many men without a fight. I would never be able to think of my station without seeing this scene."

Offering the captain a brief salute, he walked back to the other troops who were waiting nearby, all gloating over the parts they played in the trap. Wulfenbach could hardly contain his sneer. He had been so certain Tristan would make a good addition to Lord Rakar's personal troops—but at the sight of his plan's success, he was ashamed instead of feeling pride. Fool.

With an irritated noise the wolf turned his attention back to the flood below that swirled with bodies of dead Gardfordians. A great victory. All Lord Rakar's thoughts were directed toward Cosium's well-being and inevitable triumph. He would be pleased with the results here.

* * *

Rakar's teeth closed on Nymph's shoulder as he gave a possessive growl. She squirmed underneath him, giggling. Fingers ran through his loose quills as she bit his red-tipped ear, then the nails of her other hand started creeping their way down his spine, searching for someplace sensitive.

Without warning he broke free and stood up. She lay on the wet sand behind him, disappointed.

"You always stop before I have a chance to have any real fun," she said with the smallest trace of complaint.

"I know when it's enough," he said shortly, retying the band to hold his quills. "Besides, you're beginning to change back."

Nymph reddened, noticing the rubbery texture spreading across her torso. She stopped mentally grappling with her form and let herself change back to an octopus. The longest she'd ever been able to hold a shape-shift was seventy minutes, and that was _without_ any emotional distractions.

"It wouldn't truly hurt to lie with me just once, would it?" she murmured. "My kind only bear offspring one time in our entire lives. There would be very little possibility of chancing a child by me."

"Nymph, with your form bound as it is, there is not even that possibility," he told her, carefully avoiding the question she'd directed to him. "Surely you already knew that."

The woman lowered her head, the reminder of her curse as painful as ever. Nymph stared at a shell half-buried in the sand. She gently pulled it out and cradled it in her hands the way a mother would with a tiny infant. A heavy sigh dragged its way out of her chest and she let the shell slip from her fingers.

"I do not deny it. But I had always hoped that somehow…" She closed her eyes, hands tightening into fists. "My kind are _dying_. There are so few of us left, and I cannot even do my part to keep us from disappearing from the world. They think I'm dead too. I might as well be, like this…"

Rakar gazed at her, feeling a responsibility to comfort her in some way. "Nymph, you may have the body of an octopus, but inside you are still a—"

" _I don't know_ _ **what**_ _I am anymore!_ " she snarled in sudden anger, tentacles snapping like whips. "I'm a falcon living as a snail! Why didn't the Superior give me wings so that I could at least _touch the sky_ again?!"

"You know he didn't have the ability to give you more."

"He could have _tried!_ "

"Wasn't it painful enough as it was?"

She ground her teeth, but didn't reply. He hadn't been there since she had joined the cult several years before he did, but other members talked about it the way they would speak of a diverting game. Some of them found the prospect of infusing Nymph with abilities she was not born to have quite…compelling. Others merely enjoyed listening to her agonized shrieks during the process. Afterward she could shape-shift into a hedgehog or a spider for a time, and her grasp of magic was far greater than anything she'd ever been able to touch before. But it did come with a price.

He pulled on his robe again, taking something that glittered from the inside pocket in an attempt to distract her. "Here's your necklace. I'll put it on you."

The bright Firedrop Ruby settled on her breastbone with dense beauty and she reached back to stroke his hand as he fastened the clasp. Then Nymph gazed down in admiration as she felt its fine gold setting.

"Worthy of a queen… I need one other thing. Bring me a vial of rhapsor oil."

"Are you suffering in some way?" Rakar asked after a pause, wondering why she would want an anesthetic.

"Oh no. It's simply that rhapsor ivy is a natural poison to merhogs. Merely touching it can result in painful death." She smiled, a tentacle stroking her necklace's gold chain. "I've been waiting seven years for this. My plan was perfected long ago, but I simply needed the timing to be right. I've been doing experiments of my own. When a merhog touches rhapsor ivy, numbness spreads after ten seconds of direct contact, followed by muscle spasms. From what I've observed, it's quite excruciating. The loss of both Posiden and Marissa ought to drive Atlantis into hostile relations with Cosium, and your little problem of a merhog princess marrying into the family will be solved."

The red-brown hedgehog continued to observe her with a growing amount of respect, chuckling, "Devious witch."

"Oh, I've been learning from you. Have you decided how to handle your little pawns in the enemy camps yet?"

His expression soured at once. The reminder of his failure was galling and he still hadn't been able to find a way to salvage any shreds of his former plan. "I have no choice but to abandon them. It's up to them now whether to stay with the armies or leave."

Nymph gave a flippant gesture with one hand, not caring much about the end result. But before he left the cave she managed to entice another set of passionate kisses from him.

On the way back to the castle he thought about his brother's plans for strengthening the army. It was helpful only to an extent. Yes, teaching them to use their magic had its uses, but so many would turn around to pass that knowledge on to their families. It could wind up backfiring with very deadly consequences for everyone.

The hedgehog lord crossed through the gate and made his way to Mortesen's study just in time to overhear news that made his fur stand straight up.

"If it's true that those two noble Houses didn't join Queen Martharine's campaign then I want to choose one of them to rule Gardford after she's deposed," the black hedgehog said with solid authority. "As for Rofaki, the Royal family may keep the throne as long as they pledge loyalty and friendship to Cosium, but Lugius himself will be discrowned."

Athena and the generals all nodded like thoughtless bluebells bobbing in the wind. Rakar's teeth grated against each other. Did Mortesen _really_ believe they would be grateful or honor any agreement? What was wrong with choosing good Coizards to take their places?

"The 'unleashed' forces are driving the Rofakians as fast as they can, and they've killed or captured an additional four thousand troops since their escape. I haven't received word yet on how Gardford's army is faring, but several traps have been laid. We'll learn if they took the bait by tomorrow."

He stopped speaking, having caught sight of Rakar. His younger brother was tugging on a loose quill by the side of his face in what looked like a fidgeting movement.

"I suppose there isn't much else that requires our attention at the moment. If all of you will excuse me, I have something pressing to discuss with Rakar."

Athena cast him a questioning look and he nodded toward the door. With a shrug she followed the generals out, leaving the brothers alone. For a moment they stood there silently, then Mortesen approached him with a curious glance.

"You haven't used our old sign in years. What's so important that you needed to talk about it _right now?_ "

"Mortesen, I've tried to be honest with you all these years," he started in a carefully composed voice. "When I felt you were wrong, I told you. When I felt you were going too far or not far enough, I told you. When you flouted the traditional rule of Cosium, I tried to be understanding. But I just can't watch this anymore. Are you _trying_ to destroy the kingdom?"

The black hedgehog seemed taken aback. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We've always reserved the right to set our own rulers in a kingdom that failed to conquer us."

"Then you haven't been paying much attention to history," he chided. "That solution usually only lasts a few years or a generation at best before the country rebels against a foreigner who acts more like an enemy than a leader. I want _real_ diplomatic relationships with Gardford and Rofaki—not fake ones."

Rakar turned thoughtful, realizing that perhaps his brother was right about this. Before he could concede that Mortesen did have a valid point, the king took a nervous breath.

"Rakar, there's something else I wanted to discuss with you privately before I make an announcement. Once this war is all over I'm going to hire students from the Academy and send them to the villages. My people need to be able to use their magic competently."

The other hedgehog stared, not wanting to believe him. But when he didn't take the words back, Rakar had no choice but to accept that he truly meant it. "That's too dangerous, Mortesen."

"I knew you wouldn't like the idea," he sighed. "You've always been so resistant to changes. But I feel this is important."

"' _Important'_? If you mean it's important to keep our country from being overrun by peasants every time they get it into their heads that they don't need to bow to authority, then I'd fully agree with you. Something like this would guarantee that we'd never be able to suppress a revolution without devastating consequences." Rakar gazed at his brother, but Mortesen made no reply as he stared at the tabletop map. "Why _now?_ What made you decide this?"

"I've been thinking about it for a long time—ever since the massacre at Tirasleen two years ago. They killed four of our men and we killed over fifty of theirs."

"They knew they couldn't win but they still rebelled, Brother. It's not our fault they—"

" _It was a_ _ **slaughter**_ _, Rakar!_ " Mortesen shouted, rounding on him. "If I'd had _any_ idea how unskilled they were, I _never_ would have ordered the troops to attack! How can you insist they should remain ignorant and powerless while in the same breath demand they voluntarily line up to commit suicide on a battlefield?!"

It took effort for Rakar to thrust aside the hypocrisy of the argument. "…They're two entirely different circumstances."

"I know that. It's also why I'm going to have teachers go to the towns. Within a few years most of the young will be able to read, and in the process they can better learn the history of our country. They can be _proud_ to be Coizards, then they'll have the desire and the ability to defend Cosium when the time comes."

The statement was made so simply, but to Rakar it was the most noxious thing imaginable. His mouth dropped open and he stared without comprehension. It couldn't be… He wanted Mortesen to take it back, to settle back with a stupid smirk and say he was joking.

"You're a fool!" Rakar exploded. "Father _never_ would have wanted this! If you had just ruled Cosium the way he taught you to, the nobles wouldn't have defected and this war would have been long over by now."

"You _say_ that, but if they were willing to do this, I don't think I ever could have trusted them. I'll explain it to Athena after the war is over, and I'm sure she'll agree that educating the people is a good plan."

Mortesen started to turn away but Rakar's hand snapped out, latching onto his arm. The king froze at once.

"I can't let you do this, Brother."

He started to reach in, to plant ideas and thoughts in Mortesen's soul the way he had with others countless times—but everything in him rebelled.

" _Why?!_ " he shouted into his brother's blank face. "Why won't you _listen?!_ Why are you doing this to Cosium? I-I can't bring myself to change you. The mere thought of taking away part of you and replacing it with the way I think you ought to be makes me sick…"

With strange reluctance Rakar released his hold on Mortesen's soul and caught him before he could fall. The black hedgehog shook his head to clear away the dizziness, completely unaware of his brother's rant.

"What just happened?"

"Probably too much stress." He helped him to a chair, then stood there silently for a minute. "…Mortesen, _please_. Give up the idea. It's dangerous to the monarchy in too many ways."

But the king shook his head. "I didn't come to the decision lightly, Little Brother. Cosium will be stronger in the end. You'll see."

Rakar looked down, the solution to this problem so obvious…and horrifying. _'I would rather see you dead than make you into a puppet, Brother.'_

* * *

 _ **A/N: So….the end begins.**_

 _ **I'm really a sap for Mortesen's relationship with Darren. I have this adorable father-son picture in my head that almost makes me bawl every time I think about it.**_

 _ **There was actually another scene with Prydain, but he seemed to be taking up too much room in this chapter already. In short, he and the others tried to rescue the Level 2 (average) slaves, but the best of them had been taken to the main camp to occupy the empty kennels. The rest were sleeping when they showed up and as they tried to get the slaves out, a bunch of handlers showed up. After they trapped a few of Prydain's men with collars (which made them freak out), he caused a flash of light that temporarily blinded them. It was just enough of a diversion that they managed to overwhelm the handlers.**_

 _ **As for Lefae, I feel sorry for her but not much. She's probably in a better situation than she would have been otherwise.**_


	9. To End the War

_**Chapter 9: To End the War**_

Queen Martharine had difficulty accepting the reports with a stoic expression. For two minutes she sat at her table, fingers lightly massaging her eyelids as she dug the fingernails of her other hand into the wood. When her eyes finally snapped open, she locked gazes with the main general of the army.

"Would you care to explain how I could have lost more than five thousand troops _in one day?_ "

"The few survivors described Elemental traps. Our largest force was flooded in the canyons. At the same time the ground sank under more of our men who were headed toward a new village, swallowing everyone. The smallest group was bringing supplies here to the camp but was caught by a giant thornhedge before they were burned to cinders by Fire-wielders."

Her advisor, the yellow groundhog, spoke in a low voice, "Your Highness, we had feared driving the Coizards into desperation would make them turn their greatest magic-users loose on us."

"Call the head barons," she ordered tersely.

The general and advisor exchanged a quick, uneasy glance before telling the guards outside the tent to fetch their Coizard allies. Five of the thirty seven hedgehogs came.

"Have you received any news from General Gast?" the long-tailed ground squirrel demanded.

"Nothing since last week, Your Majesty. We've been—"

"Kill them."

For a moment no one moved, then most of the barons took up a defensive stance, their hands glowing. The guards who had brought them to the tent looked rightfully nervous. It was going to be a deadly fight if they attacked here.

The foremost baron thrust out a hand at his comrades. "None of that. I would like to speak with the queen before we do something we cannot take back."

Her blue eyes didn't blink. "You believe I am willing to listen to a traitor of his own people? Did you think I fully trusted any of you? Every scrap of information you gave us was _always_ verified first by my scouts. This is the first time we suffered a major setback and two of these disasters were based on suggestions _you_ gave us."

"We had nothing to do with it, Your Majesty," the hedgehog said in a calm voice, but she had the impression there might be a touch of panic underneath it. "If you believe our honesty in this matter to be false, then why would we stay in such a vulnerable position after our ruse has been discovered? If we were truly planning to betray you, then it stands to reason by our presence here that we ourselves would have been betrayed by the one who sent us, correct?"

She lifted her chin, one eyebrow raised in skepticism, but privately she had to admit he may have a point. "Killing you _would_ be a waste without solid proof. Very well, you will be confined to your tents under guard for the time being. Once I have a chance to discuss this with King Lugius, a decision will be made. You are dismissed."

For nearly a minute after the group was escorted out, no one spoke.

"General," the queen finally said, "I want their next meal drugged. Once it takes effect they will be fitted with restraints to keep them from using magic. I don't trust them to stay and do as they're told otherwise. How many flying squirrels do we have left?"

His throat cleared with a gravelly noise as he shoved down a surge of panic at the thought that she would use the last of them to attack yet another outpost. He had to remind himself he was honor-bound to obey her commands. "Just over thirty, my Queen."

"Ten of them will be equipped right away to search for the Rofakians. We need to find a way to unify our armies. If we keep losing troops at this rate, we'll be defenseless when the Coizards mount a full-scale counterattack."

Inwardly the general gave a relieved sigh.

* * *

 **The next evening…**

Lugius didn't move from his chair, sitting there stiffly while the day's estimate of losses was reported by his cousin, the Lord-Commander in charge of the largest force of remaining soldiers.

"Thirty men were killed near the rear and another fifteen disappeared when they went to the river for water. Two of our wilders were also lost with that group even though they were brought along for protection."

The king of Rofaki twisted his mouth into the slightest grimace. "They seem to be slowing down. The constant attacks must be taking a toll on them at last. Be sure the barriers along our perimeter are strong. I wouldn't put it past them to try another midnight assault. What about the main Coizard army in the north?"

The Lord-Commander's posture didn't change, but Lugius could see something nervous in him even so. "Scouts say they are nearly equal to the number of troops we have left. If we do not keep moving, they will be upon us in two days, and with the magic-users we will face… I fear the battle will go badly for us."

"Speed is our ally for the moment. Martharine isn't far. Together we have a better chance of defeating the Coizards. I need to speak with Baron Jaxom."

"Yes, Sire," the king's cousin said, hearing the curt dismissal in his tone.

Several minutes later the gray hedgehog stood in front of Lugius, bowing. There was a slight edge to his voice as he said, "You requested my presence, Your Majesty?"

"I received word this afternoon that Queen Martharine's army is less than five days' march east of us. We'll be meeting in three days. And she also suspects the barons in her camp betrayed her. She passed along the warning." The king stood up, walking around the tense hedgehog as though inspecting a side of beef. "Quite a pity you haven't given me an excuse to doubt your new allegiance. You would be a fine addition to the slave ranks. Earth is common enough, but you are possibly one of the strongest I've ever seen in my life."

Jaxom's fists were clenched tight and he grew hot with anger. "My bloodline is among the purest in Cosium. Is there anything else you would like to discuss with me, Your Majesty?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." He stepped away. "I have not received the customary taunts and ransom demand regarding my daughter. What do you think your former king might do with her?"

"Mortesen is soft and does not approve of blackmail, especially of young ladies. He'll keep her in the castle and return her home as soon as he can. There is no point in worrying about the princess's safety."

Lugius gave a slow nod. "Then I will not. Once the country belongs to me I will get her back anyway. You may go now."

Jaxom offered another quick bow and walked toward the exit, but the king's voice made him pause.

"All I need is _one reason_ , Jaxom. The barons are more useful to me collared. Remember that."

He strode away, anger touching every footstep. Several other barons had gathered in his personal tent, the question in their eyes. He shook his head and told them the two armies would be joining forces soon. The soldiers posted to watch them missed the small hand signal Jaxom shared while he spoke.

They met Martharine just before dusk three days later. Pitching camp was difficult in the fading light, so most merely threw down bedrolls and ate cold rations. During the confusion no one seemed to notice the way every baron on the Rofakian side vanished. A small group of soldiers approached the Gardfordians, asking for directions to the barons that had been assisting Queen Martharine so that they could deliver messages. Once located, they too vanished. No one wondered at the clusters of soldiers who went out to fetch water, but an hour later the sentries who let them through reported them missing—possibly killed by the pursuing Coizards.

Half a mile west, almost a hundred barons gathered at the spot Jaxom had pointed out before they had snuck away. The transformation potions faded quickly and all the barons sighed in relief that they had been able to escape without losing anyone. All those who had come from Martharine's camp rubbed their wrists where restraint manacles chafed the skin. Earth-wielders quickly went through them, splitting the metal with little effort.

Jaxom stood in the center, his solemn aura casting silence and filling the small clearing with his presence. It was easy to see at this moment why the others listened to him when he spoke and had followed him so willingly.

"We risked everything in this venture," he started. "Gast promised to give our homes and authority back. He betrayed us. For some reason he decided to abandon us with our enemies, leaving us at their mercy. I may not want them to take Cosium, but the Cosium where my father raised me and the country I loved from an early age was lost to me years ago. I have a plan, and the rest of you are free to join me or go."

He described it in short words, just enough to give them an idea of the danger involved so that they could make a decision. After all, it would strike a crippling blow to Cosium and possibly cost the war. Most bowed out, but Jaxom was surprised when twelve remained. He had not expected so many.

"We chose to come," one said. "We will see it through no matter the consequences."

The gray hedgehog took a deep breath, watching the last few barons straggle back toward the remains of what had once been a great country. "Very well. Tomorrow the king's army will be close. They'll never see us coming."

* * *

 **The following evening…**

The Coizards had gathered in a single force: twelve thousand troops from all over the country. They were less than ten miles from the opposing army, and thanks to the efforts of many different groups (especially the unleashed soldiers), their enemies were worn down to half their former strength.

Plans had been made over the past week, and in the next two days they would begin the final push that would destroy these invaders once and for all. But so many of the magic-users needed rest. The stronger ones had volunteered constantly for patrols—many among them eager for vengeance—and since they would be needed on the battlefield, orders had been given that they were to do nothing but stay in their tents and recover.

Lieutenant Guinevere checked on the Nature-wielders as the sun set, making sure they were all accounted for and obediently resting. She may not have been the strongest among them, but she had a clear sense of order and could see who worked well together as well as who didn't, but the skill that won her the position as head of the Nature-wielders was that she seemed to know what kind of potential they had after a few minutes of observation. The soldiers called her brutal in training.

The rabbit made her nightly rounds, checking on the sentries. For most of the first watch there was nothing to report, and when she heard a fistful of hedgehogs had returned, it didn't seem important.

"Scouts? I didn't know Captain Alexei sent out another patrol today. Thank you, soldiers. Another hour and your watch is over."

She meandered along the camp's rim until she came to another set of sentries, surprised when they reported the same thing.

"More scouts returned? How long ago?"

"Five minutes ago, Madam Lieutenant. Said they needed to report directly to the captain."

It didn't sit right with her, but she brushed it off as coincidence. Until she reached a third post and found out another group had been admitted to the camp at the exact same time. Panic began to creep in.

"Are you _sure_ they were hedgehogs?" she demanded.

"Of course, Madam Lieutenant," one said. "I checked them all with my mirror."

She didn't like this. Guinevere ordered them to quietly alert the nearest tents that there may be enemies in the camp. They needed to find the intruders without letting them know anyone was suspicious, but protecting their targets was critical. The gray rabbit hurried toward the officers' tents while trying not to look as though she was in a rush.

Before she reached them, Guinevere passed by tents belonging to the alchemists. She wouldn't have stopped except that she happened to know one of them was very particular about keeping the tent flap perfectly closed. Candle-light peeped out through a crack, though, and she halted.

Guinevere couldn't be sure, but a different idea occurred to her. She drew her sword and pushed open the flap, softly saying the alchemist's name as she stepped in. A light blade glanced off her weapon and she dropped into a roll, swiping out and feeling it meet flesh. Someone bit off a cry and she landed in a crouch, but then her attention was caught by the body lying prone on the ground, bleeding from fresh wounds.

Movement on the left! She started to turn but there was no time to react—

Burning pain flashed across her face as something struck, sending her to the ground. Guinevere couldn't see! A hand covered her mouth to keep the scream back and her sword was wrenched away, then one arm twisted up behind her back in an excruciatingly painful position. She felt hot blood running down her face as he pressed her into the dirt.

"It's one of the queen's warrior-women," the one holding her said, his contempt obvious. "I'll feel guilty for slitting her throat."

"She nearly gutted me!" the other whispered angrily. "Let me kill her and be done with it."

"Seems pointless. Everyone here will die as soon as Jaxom sees the signal. Let's just tie her up, leave her in the corner, then let nature take its course. By now all the alchemists are dead anyway. Our job is done. Let's get out before someone else comes."

Guinevere's whole body glowed green as she reached out, calling to the nearest trees for help. Both hedgehogs jerked in surprise, the one she had wounded growling that he was going to kill her before she could do anything—then roots sprang out of the ground, wrapping around their limbs. Freed from his grip, she rolled to one side.

Lightning sizzled, scorching the roots, but was unable to destroy the hardy vegetation. Before they could direct it at her, the tree beside the tent gave a massive groan and its heaviest branches dropped onto their heads. Guinevere curled into a ball, pinned beneath the tentcloth. There were shouts everywhere now, and then the explosions started.

She didn't know what was happening outside. The corrosive pain in her face was enough to block out everything, but with an effort she began to inch her way forward. No movement came from the two figures on either side of her and she supposed they'd either been knocked cold or had their necks broken.

The tent pressed down, preventing her from going farther. Hands shaking, Guinevere ran her fingers along the edge, at last finding a wooden peg that had been driven into the soil. A glow filled the tiny space around her, though she saw nothing, and the peg disintegrated into moldy dust.

Lifting the tent, the gray rabbit tasted fresh air mingled with an assortment of scents—the ozone of Lightning, smoke from Fire, and blood everywhere. No sooner had she heaved herself free of the tent than someone called her name. One of the sentries knelt down, taking one look and letting out a shocked gasp.

"Madam Lieutenant, your eye is in a bad way! I don't know if I should—"

" _Heal it!_ " she shouted. "I'm the only one who knows what's going on and we have to capture _all_ those hedgehogs!"

"But if I do, you may never be able to see with it again."

"One eye is better than none. _Do it_."

She felt him pause, then he touched her face. Cold washed over her skin, healing the sword slash and knitting together the torn right eye. All the pain dwindled and Guinevere was finally able to move without suffering the backlash. The sentry took out his handkerchief, clearing away blood and dirt that caked her left eye.

She blinked, disoriented by bright lights as glowing balls floated above and lit the scene. The rabbit shoved herself up and shouted at the nearest group.

"Every single hedgehog is to stand down _now!_ We need to separate out the enemies from our allies, and we can't do that if we have hedgehogs fighting on both sides."

But then tremors started beneath their feet. Guinevere's breath went ragged as the earth pitched. What could they do against something like _this?!_

* * *

Baron Jaxom formerly of Ruatha waited for the signal, but instead he saw a flurry of activity and the erratic glares from fireballs, lightning and orbs of Light blooming in the night. Shaking his head, the gray hedgehog decided it was pointless to delay any longer. Once it was no secret that his companions had infiltrated the camp, they would be captured and tortured for the truth.

He couldn't have asked for a more suitable location. The entire army of twelve thousand men had planted themselves directly beside what Jaxom's old magic teacher had referred to as "a vein of the earth", more commonly called a fault line. He slid down into a deep gully, feeling his way along until he reached the weakest point.

As a boy he'd been classified as unusually strong in the Earth Element, able to feel the difference in stones without using his eyes. It was a common game for him to walk in patterns around the manor grounds, following different ore lines beneath the earth. Once he took over his father's position as baron, the peasants were set to building mines for jasper.

That was one reason the fools had turned on him. Perhaps it _had_ been somewhat unjust to ask them to dig and yet still work the same number of fields—but it was his decision to make and they would have been rewarded for the extra work once it paid off. Ryla constantly told him the people needed this or that, but what was the loss of a few elders who would have died anyway come winter?

An image of Ryla holding their four-year-old son and kissing him goodbye flashed into his mind. Then Jaxom took hold of his magic—all of it.

The glow burned so brightly that it was more white than brown. He shoved it down into the earth. Ordinarily no single person would have been able to do this, but Jaxom's shattered heart merged with despair and hatred, giving him a strength beyond what most can ever touch.

Magic gripped the fault line, pulling it into wakefulness. Like a slumbering serpent just starting to feel warmth, it shivered and shuddered in a rolling wave of miniscule twitches. Jaxom reached and reached, finally touching the inner core of the fault. At once his magic turned white-hot!

He dropped flat against the ground, fingers clawing up dirt in an effort to keep from being repelled. It desired nothing but stillness… Not yet time to move…

He strained harder to send forth every fleck of magic in his being, sweat pouring into his eyes and making them sting. This was the confrontation—to make it realize the path of least resistance was in change rather than remaining stationary. An eternal minute later the earth gave a convulsive heave, finally responding.

Stones bounced down into the gully, striking him, but his mind was entirely focused on what was happening out of sight. Jaxom's body seemed so far away that he might as well not have it at all.

A surge of elation filled the gray hedgehog as he found the fault responding to his commands. Directing its focus toward the encampment was effortlessly simple. Vibrations grew in size, cracking the rock beneath them and making it crumble. He urged the fault to sink the field and then make the surrounding earth collapse inward, crushing everything and everyone there.

But Jaxom felt something wrong. Pain was everywhere. His lungs burned with the need for air, but he couldn't draw in any breath because his entire body had stopped working. Though his senses returned to the gully where he lay, he continued to press every thread of magic into the earth.

He'd known this would happen. A feat of this magnitude required all he had, including his life.

"...So much death," a pale voice said above him.

Jaxom wanted to jerk away, but his body disobediently remained motionless. He had no choice but to stare at the figure all in black, impossibly tall, tattered sleeves draping along the ground, and a veil donned over her head. One long-fingered hand held a scythe. The other held an hourglass with only a few grains of sand left. The blue flame crowning it had burned low, hardly a flicker now.

But Lady Death wasn't looking at him. Her eyes seemed to gaze through earth and stone, watching the turmoil he had caused in the Coizard camp. The beginning of his earthquake had split right down the center, sending people running every direction in a mass of panic and confusion.

Pride and fury continued to rage unabated within him and Jaxom spoke to her, "At least I have avenged my family."

"Child, did you ever stop to wonder whether they wished you to do this? Do you truly believe they wanted you to wash their memories with the blood of retribution?"

The words were a hammer-blow. Jaxom's eyes had fastened on her against his will, but now he recognized sadness in her face.

"I cannot take you to them, Little One. Wrath has consumed your heart, and there is no place for hatred where they are. I can only give you what you truly want, and revenge means more to you than the ones you professed to love beyond all else. I regret it must end this way. The last grain falls."

He watched the hourglass, the flake of sand slipping through its narrow throat with incredible slowness. Jaxom felt tears in his eyes. The earthquake had already begun tearing apart the camp and screams hung on the air.

Ryla… Jace… his parents… Had he dishonored them by seeking death more than a thousand-fold?

For the first time since their funeral Jaxom let go of the anger, its loss leaving him feeling shriveled and naked. At the same time he released his hold on the fault line and it resettled into its sleep-like state, though the sudden activity had changed terrain for miles in every direction. He looked past Lady Death, somehow managing to see through the cloud of dust and into the glittering heavens.

"I didn't want this… I'm sorry…"

The flame died as the grain of sand landed among the rest, then the hourglass that counted out the seconds of his life vanished forever. His eyes glazed over.

Jaxom felt Lady Death take him by the hand, surprised at the warmth that filled him from that touch. When he sat up—his lifeless body remaining on the ground—there was a kindhearted smile on her face and he felt the most wonderful feeling of _belonging_.

"Come home, Child. Your family is waiting."

He blinked, already looking younger than he had a moment earlier. "But…you said I couldn't be with them."

"A single moment is all it takes," came her pleased whisper. "I am glad you chose them rather than yourself."

She felt his arms wrap around her, too full of emotion to speak, and Lady Death stroked his head with a mother's tenderness. It was not often her words touched the hearts of those so filled with vice, and this victory had won many lives that would have ended otherwise. Only a few had died during the quake.

She took a step, guiding him through the mantle of the world and into the next…

* * *

The sun had yet to rise, but the king and queen of Cosium had been awake ever since Benonic carried Darren to their room. The Assassin had been unable to comfort him after he woke up crying from a nightmare, wanting nothing more than to be with his parents. Athena sent the light purple hedgehog back to bed after saying they would take care of him.

Several days earlier Darren had been inspecting the teleportation pavilion when the circle glowed and a large group appeared. Sobbing groans of pain assaulted his ears and he'd backed away in shock as he saw so many of them with burnt, twisted bodies. Healers had come running, their commands for stretchers and painkillers nearly drowned out in the onslaught of noise made by the injured soldiers.

No one noticed the little prince huddled in the corner, paralyzed with fright and unable to look away. Master Snowfoot found him wandering aimlessly through the castle grounds an hour later, the scene continuing to haunt him. War was no longer something far away and it terrified him beyond anything he had ever imagined.

The knock on their door was a surprise, and Mortesen answered it with a trace of annoyance. The head teleporter stood there. His nervous report made every other thought fall away from the monarch's mind.

"I don't understand…" Mortesen said, dumbfounded. "How can every attempt to teleport to the army _fail?_ "

"This has only happened once to me, Your Highness," he replied after clearing his throat. "Several years ago I tried to send a letter to a port town that had been flooded. The area was so different that my mental image did not match the reality of that place. It failed, leaving me with a minor backlash and the letter could not be delivered."

"Does that mean the entire area is flooded?"

"Perhaps. It is drastically different from the way it was yesterday, or else I would have been able to return."

Athena sat behind her husband in a rocking chair, Darren sleeping on her lap. She too looked worried. All their strongest magic-users had been stationed with the main army, and most of the other troops had joined them to confront the invaders. If anything disastrous had happened…

"My King," a new voice interrupted them from the open door. A fox stood there, letter in hand. "This arrived a few minutes ago. It's from the army."

Mortesen took the paper and read its contents, stone-faced. Once he was done he closed his eyes and held it out to his wife.

The letter outlined events of the previous night starting with the unexpected attack by groups of traitorous nobles, the assassination of all alchemists in the camp—possibly to prevent an escape—and the subsequent quake that riddled the area with deep cracks. There had been surprisingly few casualties, but the army was trapped, unable to cross the chasms that were twenty feet across at their widest, but far too unstable for anyone to chance going close to the edge.

Athena's eyes had widened and she sat there, frozen. "An earthquake? How could—?! I didn't even know that was possible!"

"Under the right circumstances it is, and especially if several Earth-users work together, my Queen," the alchemist offered. "There are many records of man-made earthquakes in the Academy's library."

She continued reading, noting the writer's repeated apologies for being unable to do anything worthwhile. All the Earth-wielders had spent their energy trying to keep the ground from crumbling beneath their feet. Most had fallen into deep magic fatigue in the attempt, and the rest of the other magic-users had run themselves ragged over the past weeks in pursuit of the Rofakians. There were only a few people they could find who had ever teleported letters before, but their skill was poor and they could not possibly attempt sending living beings with any amount of confidence in their safety.

"Cut off…" Mortesen muttered dismally. "The bulk of our army—over ten thousand troops—stranded. How will they get supplies? How will they get free? And how many teleporters were killed in that attack?"

"King Mortesen, the only ones we have left who have experience transporting people are here at the castle. Five, if you count Lord Rakar."

Seventeen had been killed. No one said the number out loud, but Athena could see gloom gathering around her husband. She addressed the two when he continued to remain silent.

"Thank you. An announcement will be made to everyone soon. Do not spread this information until we have had time to assess the damage and what we can do about it. Causing a panic now is premature."

The soldier saluted and the alchemist bowed, then the door closed behind them. Mortesen dropped to the floor as though it was only his pride in front of his subjects that had kept him upright.

"Cosmos… _Please_ let there be a way out of this," he begged.

Darren shifted on his mother's lap, making Athena look down at him. He was so young… If they conquered, he would lose his homeland the way she had lost hers. Or worse…he would be killed or enslaved along with Kaze. And who knew what they would do to Benonic. She _couldn't_ let their enemies win before the final battle had even begun.

"The war isn't over yet, my love," she whispered. "We still have many reasons to fight."

Her soft voice pulled his eyes and he saw where her gaze lay. Determination flared in his heart. Yes. He would try.

* * *

Captain Alexei surveyed the area around camp. The dust had settled, but what could be seen was discouraging. Soldiers huddled together, many breathing through handkerchiefs or strips of cloth. Cracks spider-webbed their way along the perimeter, growing larger, especially to the south. But the army was still stranded on several islands of broken land.

He sent word circulating that he needed any exceptionally strong Light-, Dark- and Wind-users to meet him at the officers' tents. An hour later just over forty arrived. Out of twelve thousand, only these had responded. The skunk couldn't wait for more to wander in.

"We need soldiers to cross the gaps, and as far as I know only those with your Elements would be able to do it. Are any of you familiar with full Elemental conversion?"

Thankfully at least one from each group was. He ordered them to teach the rest the skill and inform him when they were ready. It was not an easy thing to learn, and one that used massive amounts of energy. Still, by the following morning those who had the strength said they were prepared. He chose twelve, all of whom had scouting experience, and fortunately one of the soldiers who had experience teleporting letters was among them. But they still needed a leader.

" _You_ ," he pointed to one of the Light-wielders. "What's your name?"

The orange hedgehog straightened, offering a salute even though he hardly felt like giving it to the one responsible for putting him at the mercy of the Rofakians. "Infantryman Prydain from the unleashed regiment, Captain."

"I saw you during the quake bringing soldiers under control and keeping them organized. You are now a lieutenant and the responsibility of this mission is yours. Scout the enemies, but do not engage under any circumstances. Everything you learn must reach the king. Be safe, and Godspeed."

Prydain accepted the officer's crest from Captain Alexei with open surprise. A _lieutenant?_

After the hedgehog had led his band away, Lieutenant Guinevere approached. "Sir, I've done all I can to measure out rations, but we have to find water if we want to survive much longer. I've gathered a group of Water-wielders who can work together to condense water into basins, but I doubt they can provide enough for thousands of soldiers. We need to get to the main land by tomorrow if we want to avoid losing anyone from dehydration."

"Vines," he said, still gazing after Lieutenant Prydain and his men as they poised on the edge of the cliff. "I saw Prince Darren using his vines to climb from tree to tree in the royal garden once. See if you can find any Nature-wielders who have intrinsic magic and get them to weave a bridge long enough to cross that gap."

The rabbit's one good eye appraised him. "Consider it done, Captain. There seem to be less fissures north of us, so we'll head that way. It shouldn't take longer than half an hour to get the bridge across, but they'll have to make at least four of them for us to reach safe, solid ground, plus we need to help the other parts of the army that were cut off from us during the quake."

"At least we have a reasonable hope of getting out," the skunk commented, watching the scouts vanish all at once, then reappear on the other side of the first gorge a minute later.

* * *

Mortesen had no choice but to break the news to his few officers, giving them the report and watching their faces draw tight. There were only four captains present since the rest along with every general had been sent with the army. And over the next few days they received the worst news possible.

Scouts observed the Gardfordians and Rofakians chopping down trees. They focused all their energy on making barges, and their leashed magic-users made it that much easier. The Bantam River led straight to Briny Bay, a sixty-mile journey that would take two or three days at most. And once they landed it was practically a stroll to the castle.

The king stood on the balcony of his study, staring at the puffy clouds that had no right to look so bright and cheerful on this wretched day. He didn't know what to do. According to the latest report the ships were being completed this day and readying for launch in the morning. There were _maybe_ three days before the Gardford-Rofaki army arrived to destroy everything he held dear. He had no time or ability to gather new troops or save the old ones.

They were going to die. And Cosium… Cosium would fall.

"Papa?"

The overwhelming depression lifted as he turned to look at his firstborn, a reflexive smile on his face. "Yes, Kaze?"

Kaze was holding something, and he seemed unsure. "I told Sapphire about the army. She said to give you this. If you say her father's name, it lets you talk to him. At least I _think_ that's how it works."

The young prince held out a mirror. Its frame was embedded with small, colorful pebbles that had been grouped together to make miniature pictures of dolphins, sea turtles and different phases of the moon. Mortesen thanked his son and sent him down to the pastry kitchen for a treat before placing it on a shelf so that it stood upright.

He straightened his outfit and spent a minute composing himself before finally saying the name, "King Posiden."

The reflection went opaque and he saw an undersea room lit only by jellyfish meandering around the ceiling. The king of Atlantis was speaking with several other merhogs but turned to look at Mortesen immediately.

"Gentlemen," he said, dismissing them with nothing but that word. Once the merhogs were gone, Posiden's expression relaxed and there was a feeling of informality between them. "My daughter is worried. She says the war is going badly and that your son is afraid you will send him away."

Mortesen glanced back at the door Kaze had exited through. "I… I wasn't aware he knew. I haven't said anything about it."

"Children are often the first to understand what no one will tell them out loud," the merhog king sighed, shaking his head and presumably recalling similar moments in his own life.

The black hedgehog began to explain the situation with his trapped army and the boats. Posiden didn't speak, but near the end, his mouth could hardly keep from curling up.

"Is there something I said that amuses you?"

"No, no. It is simply that they think they will be able to sail straight up to the castle when you have merhogs as your allies. If you can give my mages one or two strong Earth-users to accompany them, I will ensure your enemies will be forced to abandon their boats and go on foot. That gives you more time to formulate a better defense."

"But the number of troops we have…" The black hedgehog shook his head, still apprehensive.

"Do not underestimate the assistance we can provide, Mortesen. My soldiers have fought many battles before and war is no stranger to us. We may be bound to water rather than land, but that will give us an advantage they'll never expect."

He hoped it was true.

Later that afternoon, once two Earth-wielders had been sent down to the docks to meet the merhog mages, Mortesen found himself with nothing to do. Ordinarily he would have been swamped with reports, but ever since the earthquake, hardly any news from the front reached him. And so it was with a sense of idleness that he picked up the latest letter from Marcuriana and finally opened it.

Moments later he was digging frantically through his desk searching for any discarded reports he'd never read. He found all those from northeast Cosium and laid them out, going over each one attentively, then he sent a servant to bring Athena to his study and another with a message for the head teleporter. She came in, her features steeped in foreboding. He knew she suspected he was about to send the family elsewhere. Instead he held up one of the letters.

"Were you aware that several Marcurians you saved were high-ranking members of your father's military?"

Athena was so taken back by the question that it took her a few moments to answer. "…Yes. Retired ones. Why? Did they contact you?"

"Repeatedly, though I'm ashamed that I dismissed them until now." He paused to clear his throat in a way that reflected his self-reproach. "Apparently someone has been keeping them updated on the war. And it seems they are very persuasive. All seven of the barons in that area joined them to train any local men who wished to fight. According to this letter, you gave them the liberty to do that."

"I did?" she looked thunderstruck. "Well…maybe I did. Captain Gawain came all the way here two months ago to offer the Marcurian forces to us. But because he only had seven hundred at most—and they were nearly all the countrymen I have left—I told him to stay up north and continue training. He might have taken that as royal permission to accept new recruits through the barons."

Her husband laid out the letters, tapping a couple as he spoke. "It seems they were quite successful. The captain says here they have just over eight thousand fully-disciplined troops well-versed in weaponry as well as their magic. And all of them volunteers."

"Eight thousand…" Athena's eyes brightened and she hurried around the desk to grab his hands.  
"Mortesen, do you know what this means? We have a chance. A _real_ chance!"

She threw herself at him, giving delighted kisses that were returned with just as much fervor. He was running his fingers through her quills and enjoying the sweet taste of her lips when a knock shattered the moment. They broke off reluctantly.

" _Why_ did I send for him right away?" the king growled, then louder he called, "Come!"

The head teleporter entered, several papers in his hand. "My King, you asked for lists of all places the remaining teleporters can go."

He and Athena scanned the pages, letting out a deep breath when they saw the names of all major towns in the northeast territory.

"How long will it take to transport eight thousand troops here to the castle?"

"If they are ready and waiting—and especially if there is plenty of magic stored in the teleportation circle—I'd suppose three days. Perhaps a little less. We'll need to go in shifts to keep from taxing our minds too badly, but I'm sure we can do it."

Rakar was less enthusiastic in some ways than Mortesen expected. As glad as he was for the those in the northeast and the additional thousands Posiden was providing, the red-brown hedgehog pointed out they were still outnumbered since the Gardford-Rofaki army had an estimated fifteen thousand troops remaining. And there was no certainty that "fully-trained" meant what he expected it to mean. They were mostly peasants, after all.

When Mortesen suggested contacting their allies again to see if perhaps more soldiers might be teleported in somehow, Rakar immediately dissuaded him.

"Brother, I know our very survival is at stake here, but teleporting mass numbers of people is something only we know about. If the key to it was to spread, we would not only be opening ourselves to an attack, but giving every other nation the concept that they could appear on their enemy's soil and lay siege overnight. This knowledge must remain private, even from the Academy Masters. If they know about it, they have purposely not taught anyone to use it and I can see why. Outside of this war, we must pretend we have never heard of such a thing."

Mortesen considered this advice. If the Gardfordians and Rofakians had been able to teleport an entire army, Cosium would now be dead. But how could they keep it a secret now that so many Coizards were aware of it?

"Of course they're aware that it's possible," Rakar admitted, "but who aside from some captains and the alchemists know _how_ to do it? Even the townspeople who add their magic to the teleportation circle don't know _why_ they must do it. I made sure they were told nothing but that it was necessary for the pavilion to work properly."

"I hope you're right, Rakar. If even one person who had full knowledge went elsewhere… I don't want to think about the consequences."

The younger hedgehog rubbed his chin. Mortesen was correct. That meant every single teleporter—every single _alchemist_ —who was aware of this would have to die. After the war, he would have to be extremely creative in finding ways to rid Cosium of this potential disaster without making it obvious what he was doing. The skill was far too dangerous.

"The final battle that will end this war is just around the corner," the king sighed. "I don't know what Father would have done in my place, but I have no doubt he would chastise me for suggesting we not take part."

"Oh yes," Rakar said, smiling slightly. "I remember now. 'If you are not willing to do a deed yourself, then you cannot morally send others to do it in your stead.' He certainly had quite a few battlescars to prove he believed that."

An icy chill followed his words and Rakar jerked his head away too fast to make it seem casual. He could feel Mortesen's eyes and shifted uncomfortably. _Why_ had he said that?! Please don't notice…please don't look…

"I've tried to see past your scars for so long that I haven't paid much attention to them. Why do you have so many?" the black hedgehog wondered. "What's happened to you? Brother, are you alright?"

Rakar didn't answer. When Mortesen placed a hand on his arm, the other flinched.

"Please, I want to help. You can tell me."

For a few more moments there was silence, then Rakar spoke without meeting his eyes. "There is a chest under my bed. If…if I don't come back from the battle I want you to burn it without looking inside. Promise me that."

His older brother's face creased with concern. "I will if you promise to take care of Athena and the boys if something happens to me. I want to know they will be safe."

Rakar's eyes finally rose to meet his. There was deep pain in them and Mortesen desperately wanted to know what the other had done that he was so ashamed of, but it wasn't his place to ask. He had a right to his own privacy.

"I swear by Cosmos's name I will do everything in my power to protect your sons until they are old enough to take care of the kingdom themselves."

The black-furred hedgehog reached forward, gripping his brother's forearms in an old, familiar way. "I swear if you don't live past the final battle, that chest will burn, unopened."

* * *

 **Two mornings later…**

Queen Martharine sat beneath a canopy in the center of one barge. Her lady-in-waiting, Carla, fanned her with swift movements to keep her cool among the press of many soldiers. At least they had the decency to give her a bit of room, but everyone had been crowded uncomfortably even so.

The loss of the Coizard barons was both unexpected and unsurprising. What was most puzzling was who attacked the army readying itself to pounce on them. Lugius had joked perhaps the barons had done it after all, but Martharine insisted the double-crossing traitors wouldn't turn on their own people.

All they knew for certain was that the disaster gave them time to build barges without being hindered. Watching Lugius's slaves slice the trees into perfect boards and bind them together without nails was astonishing. She began to wonder if perhaps it would be good to find out more about those leashes. The majority of Cosium would soon be hers, after all, and it was foolish to ignore such a resource now that she could see firsthand how useful the magic-users were outside battle.

Dozens of flat-bottomed crafts had been built and ready for boarding in less than two days. Now they were floating their way down the Bantam River, no army behind and very likely nothing more than a skeleton force at the castle itself. Cosium was ripe for plucking.

The long-tailed ground squirrel opened her eyes. She could feel something wrong. The barge no longer cut smoothly through the water, growing more and more sluggish until there was little forward motion. Mutters could be heard coming from the outer edges of the barge as those with their long poles struggled to make the craft move faster.

"What is it?" her proud, royal voice rang out.

"Your Highness," her advisor said, edging his way through the crowd. "The water… I don't understand how, but it is entirely…mud."

She stood, sweeping one hand out in a movement that caused all the soldiers in front of her to press aside. A path opened and she glided to the barge's side, looking into murky water so thick with brush and mud that clumps of it floated about like grease in a pot of cold peasant soup.

"Send a flying squirrel to see what is obstructing the river," she commanded, returning to the shade of her canopy and gesturing for Carla to continue her fanning.

Minutes later the scout returned. "My Queen, there is no dam that I can see. The high banks of the river have collapsed ahead, filling the water with so much earth that it has completely choked it. I cannot see a way through."

Martharine stroked her bracelets, finally saying, "Go to Lugius. Tell him what you have seen and ask if his Earth-wielders can clear the water."

By the time the the flying squirrel was back, barges were bumping into each other as the current slowed more of them to a standstill. "He says the earth is too saturated by the water. He is already giving orders for his men to disembark and strongly suggests you do the same before the river floods the land here too badly."

The ground felt squashy and sank slightly beneath their feet, so they hurried to get farther from the river. Martharine's nose wrinkled, detecting a stagnant, marshy stench rising from the ground. It was too coincidental that the river would be blocked. Her head general compared the map to their location, estimating they were thirty-five miles from Cosium Castle. A three-day march if they kept a good pace.

Three days, and then one for a final pointless confrontation. The queen of Gardford cast her eyes possessively at the nearby hills and then southward. Not long, not long…

* * *

 **Three days later, the night before the final battle…**

The castle barracks were filled past capacity, forcing most of the eight thousand troops to be settled outside town in tents constructed hastily for them. Whole villages had come flocking to Cosium Town, fearful of the approaching army, squeezing streets into narrow lanes and making it almost impossible to conduct ordinary business. But a heavy smog of discouragement settled down over them.

And in the war room, Mortesen faced Captain Gawain. "Did you just say you only have _nine_ captains commanding thousands of soldiers?"

The mink was old, his fur graying, and he was certainly not impressed by a king who was a third his age. "Do you have any notion how much experience and training is required for a man's rank to reflect his actual abilities? King Garrik could have made me a general four different times, but I never accepted it because I knew I could not strategize and plan on the level his other generals could. Promote someone to a position they are not prepared for and you will very likely end up responsible for more men dying than would have otherwise."

The memory of Alexei's protests when Mortesen sent him out to lead a thousand men replayed in his head. It hadn't been right to thrust it on him, but…

"Then what can we do? Who can lead these men?"

"We will have to do the best we can," Gawain said with a heavy sigh. "Careful planning now will save lives tomorrow. But it is true that field commanders are necessary. Thirteen is far too few captains, though we don't seem to have much choice. With the addition of you and Lord Rakar, things will be easier to control."

"And what of me?" The entire room turned to stare at the blue-furred queen seated in the corner and very quiet until now. "One more field commander could be the advantage we need."

"Out of the question."

Her husband glared, firm in his decision. But Athena's face was just as stubborn. She rose to her feet, eyes flashing as brightly as the ruby pendant at her throat.

"Who will lead them, Mortesen? The teleporters have worn themselves to nothing to get all those soldiers here and even if we _could_ find the other generals they couldn't be brought here by morning. We in this room are all that prevent Cosium's defeat. Our choices will save or lose the kingdom."

"Your Majesty," Captain Gawain murmured to him, "my liege lady is correct. There are far too few captains among us. The lieutenants are skilled in carrying out orders among their troops, but they cannot see the whole battlefield and how it must change at a moment's notice."

"I don't want Athena out there," he insisted.

"Mortesen, do you think I'm stupidly going to rush headlong into the fray?! I'm the _queen_. I know my presence alone is far more effective in this battle than personally taking up the sword. My father told me a king who leads the charge is a fool who's likely to get himself killed rather than succeed. I studied battle tactics growing up and you know perfectly well I am no novice when it comes to defending myself."

It was meant to comfort him, he supposed, but it didn't. She would still be out there, and any number of enemies could get close enough to shove a dagger blade in between her ribs. Mortesen tried to argue the point from one perspective after another, but in the end he was outmaneuvered. His wife was absolutely determined to accompany her people.

Finally he gave in, saying, "Only on the condition that you keep the Protector-Assassin by your side at all times."

The tension in the war room decreased and they returned to the map, adjusting troops and planning where to station everyone. Posiden appeared in the mirror, his input changing the battle scene dramatically and giving them more hope.

Once everyone had left to follow orders and carry news to the waiting troops, Mortesen came up with a pretext for Athena to leave, then sent a message. Minutes afterward, a small noise caught his ear and he turned to see Benonic peering through a crack in the door.

"Come in," he said, motioning him forward.

The deformed hedgehog stepped inside, eyes shifting quickly to betray his nervousness. Mortesen had never summoned him before and he had never set foot in this room.

"I asked you to come here because—" The king broke off. Benonic continued staring at him, but he found himself at a loss for words. "Ben… I'm sorry if I haven't spent time with you the way I should have. Just recently I realized Darren needed time alone with me, and I've never really given you that opportunity either. Maybe I thought you didn't need me because you were so close to Athena, but I see now that was only an excuse."

Benonic's hands moved, spelling out most of his words. Although Mortesen had learned some of the more common signs by watching him talk during mealtimes, it wasn't enough to understand the young hedgehog well. Benonic knew this, so he made his words simple, signing the letters slowly and only using the signs for words he knew Mortesen was familiar with.

" _You are king with many duties. And I am not really your son."_

The black hedgehog felt guilt begin to crush his conscience. "Ben, I'm sorry for treating you as nothing more than a young friend or a bodyguard for the boys. You _are_ my son and I should have been taking that seriously since the beginning."

The younger hedgehog tilted his head slightly, considering before he raised his hands again. _"I do not know who my real parents were, but they could not possibly be as kind and generous as you and Mama."_

"I wish I could live up to that compliment. Benonic, I have a request—the only one I will ever make of you." Mortesen swallowed, finding the words hard to say. "Stay with Athena. Don't leave her for a single second. And if…if the battle goes badly I want you to take her to the woods. I don't care if you have to drag her kicking and screaming or knock her out—I want her _safe_."

" _She will be. I promise."_

"Thank you." Pushing away the awkwardness between them, he squeezed Benonic's shoulder.

The sun was setting when Athena and Mortesen carried their children to the bedroom. For a time they tried to avoid talking about the following day's battle, but then Darren asked if there would be more soldiers injured like the ones he had seen the week before. Silence fell.

"Kaze, can you carry Darren far with your wings?" their father asked at last.

"Farther than I used to," he said proudly.

"…If the battle is lost, you need to take Darren to the Forbidden Forest. You'll be safe there. Understand?"

Kaze had met Grandmother Lake numerous times, at least once a month, though the war had upset that schedule. But he knew she was to remain a secret, even from his mother and brothers. He understood his father's implication and nodded solemnly.

"I can carry him that far, Papa." Then his expression turned sullen. "But I want to be with you. I can fight too!"

" _Kaze_ ," Athena said with a cutting note, "what did I tell you about that? A battlefield is no place for children."

"But Ben said he's going."

"He's also ten years older than you," the queen almost snapped, "and he's undergone the most rigorous training anyone can endure. I don't want to hear another word about it."

"Please," Mortesen's soothing voice calmed his wife and eased away the pout on Kaze's face. "Please, right now I don't want to think about anything except us together."

They all sat on the bed, with Benonic leaning against Athena while Kaze and Darren curled up on either side of their father. Mortesen reached around, pulling his adopted son closer. Benonic seemed surprised but he submitted to the hand that had settled on his shoulder.

For the moment nothing else mattered but their family.

* * *

 **Just north of Cosium Castle…**

The village where the Gardfordian army had made camp was empty, so what few houses were available went to officers. The queen took the largest one for herself, glad to have a real roof over her head even for one night. Of course there was still much to be done, so she set to work, writing long after the sun went down.

Her quill pen went dry sooner and sooner until there was nothing but a flat puddle in the very bottom of her inkwell. If only there was a spell that could make a quill write without ever having to be dipped. There ought to have been an extra inkwell inside her desk, but she couldn't find it.

"Carla?" Queen Martharine called from her room. She waited a few moments before calling again a bit more testily, "Carla, _come here!_ "

Still no one appeared. Fed up with her lady-in-waiting, the squirrel stormed through the door with a fierce expression, only to stop dead in her tracks when she saw Carla serving tea to a familiar brown hedgehog who was seated at her cherrywood table and sitting there as though he owned the place. When she appeared, the servant didn't curtsy or apologize for not answering her summons. The pale brown ferret seemed to emanate a sense of triumph and there was a distinctly unpleasant twist to her smile as she looked back. General Gast simply gave her a cursory glance and then stirred his tea, apparently finding it more worthy of his attention than the Gardfordian queen.

Her anger flared at both their responses, but she also couldn't keep back the spike of cold fear. They shouldn't be acting this way. Something was wrong. She had to find out what was going on while still retaining control of the situation.

"General Gast, as much as I have appreciated your intelligence during our campaign, it appears you have lost any trace of decorum and respect for those above your station. If you do not wish to have your body impaled by several spears from my rather overprotective bodyguards, I suggest you recover your manners in the next few seconds."

He continued to focus on the tea and took a sip, pausing thoughtfully. "Interesting, but no. I think I prefer something stronger than white spicemint."

" _General_ ," Martharine said warningly, hackles rising even more at the realization that he had been served from her private stache of rare tea leaves. "I am not accustomed to being ignored in this fashion. Carla, call my guards and have this lout removed from my presence."

"So sorry, _my Queen_ , but they have orders not to disturb you this evening while you go over final preparations for the battle. And thanks to your guest, they are unable to hear anything within these walls."

Betrayal. It was the only explanation. The fear inside flared into panic. She was alone with two people who obviously had no good intentions.

"Why?" she asked the scarred hedgehog, carefully keeping her voice calm. "I did everything according to the information you gave us. What kind of game have you really been playing all this time?"

Gast's eyes were deep crimson as he turned to survey her. "Gardford has always been a volatile enemy. My grandfather fought against your country's last attempt to take Cosium, losing his life in the process, and I would not be surprised to find out my grandmother's assassin was sent by your family. I want the entire world to see that even when our forces are outmatched we _still_ come out victorious."

She darted a glare at her lady-in-waiting. "And you?"

"I don't know any servant of yours who doesn't despise you," she answered in a disgusted tone. "You treat these Coizard peasants with more respect than your own people."

There had to be a way to put them off-guard. Martharine had faced assassins on her own before, even good ones.

"If you aren't really a traitor to Cosium, what are you?" she demanded.

General Gast opened his mouth to reply and she swept her hands forward, glowing suddenly with red light. He seized Carla's arm and both of them vanished into nothing just as fireballs blasted the table and chairs to bits, scorching the wall an ugly black at the same time. Martharine sensed the warmth of two people directly behind her but couldn't move away quickly enough.

Every muscle froze.

His hand had locked on the back of her neck and he sounded annoyed. "How very rude. I dislike being interrupted. Well, if you prefer I get on with it then I suppose I have no objections."

Carla stepped around to stare her in the face, eyes narrowed with hatred and envy. "What do you need for the potion, Lord Rakar?"

It took a moment for the queen to realize her servant had called him by a different name. She'd heard it before, but she was too preoccupied to think about why it sounded familiar.

"Oh, the heart could make the transformation near-permanent, but the longer you pose as her runs the risk of someone discovering the truth. Best to use blood only."

Carla pulled Martharine's own dagger from its sheath and immediately pressed it against the fleshy part of the squirrel's palm. There was a moment of numbness followed by slicing pain, and she couldn't so much as flinch.

Rakar held out a vial and Carla took it, using it to catch the blood that dripped down. The clear liquid turned a cloudy reddish-brown.

"That will do, Carla."

With an amount of greediness that was sickening, Carla put the vial to her lips and drank a mouthful. Moments later Martharine stared at a mirror image of herself, though the servant's dress fit too snugly and there was a haughty air about her posture and expression that she herself surely never would have displayed.

She wanted to scream, but not even her tongue would move. This was not what the transformation potion was for!

"It would be wise to take another dose in the morning anyway. One can never be absolutely certain how long it will last." There was amusement in his voice suddenly. "I hope you are able to use your time well."

"Oh, I've been planning this ever since you first approached me, Lord Rakar. I have many things to do." Carla was inspecting her hands as though she'd never possessed any before, then she looked up at the queen again with eyes that burned like coals. "But I cannot be seen without the crown."

The ferret-turned-squirrel ripped the gold coronet off Martharine's head. It was pure torture to watch Carla settle it on her own brow and stare at its true owner as though _she_ were the imposter.

"It suits you as well as it did her," Rakar commented in an emotionless way.

Carla then began to steal her bracelets and Martharine was finally able to make a strangled noise of protest. There was nothing more insulting—more _violating_ —that anyone could do to a Gardfordian woman (short of rape, that is). These were pieces of her life!

"Once all of this is over, you may come to the castle or return to your homeland. It does not matter to me. Now if you'll excuse me, 'Queen Martharine', I have an enemy of Cosium to deal with."

She didn't see how he could possibly get her out of here without being spotted and caught. Everyone in this camp knew her and they… Why was he kneeling down?

Rakar pressed his hand against a circle drawn on the floorboards and then the entire world turned silver. Something pushed on her from every direction until the squirrel thought her bones would shatter—then it was gone and she dropped to the ground. The dank smell of dust and stone surrounded her, and the only light came from a lantern outside the open door of a cell they had appeared inside.

Where was she? What had he just done?!

"If all goes according to plan, I won't be back for two days or so. I can't leave you idle."

Her head flew up and she glared at him. "You—!"

Rakar's forefinger touched her lips and she lost all control over her muscles again. "I did not give you permission to speak. Now, _sleep until I return_."

The command pulled her eyelids closed at once. No matter how she tried to fight it, exhaustion swept over her until there was nothing but darkness. It happened so quickly that she didn't even feel herself fall.

* * *

"Mortesen, you have to get your rest. You'll be in no shape to do anything otherwise."

He stood at the windows of their bedroom, staring into the starlit darkness. Trying to sleep hadn't worked and he'd done nothing but toss, disturbing Athena. Or perhaps she was wide awake without his influence.

"Tomorrow Cosium could be destroyed," he whispered, his words carrying in the stillness of their room. "How can I rest knowing that?"

The sound of Athena slipping from the bed reached his ears, but her bare feet made no noise on the carpet. Even so, he knew she was behind him. Her breath tickled his quills.

"Don't think about it."

"I can't think about anything else."

"Maybe I can help." Athena's fingers slid down his arm, lacing with his, then she turned his face toward her. "Just for a little while…can you think about me instead?"

"I always think about you, my heart. It's simply that other things eclipse you every now and then." He gazed through the dimness, seeing the glint of her eyes by faint starlight. "But even when I deal with this war, it's your safety and that of the boys that influences my decisions. So many times I long to be an ordinary man so that I could have nothing to worry about other than taking care of my gorgeous wife and fine sons, but I…I can't hide behind wishful thinking. Too much depends on me and I can't—!"

Her mouth covered his with such a delicate touch that it surprised him into silence. His eyes slid shut and they kissed back and forth, no demand or intensity breaking into this velvet cocoon of intimacy.

Love was not always fire. Sometimes it was a butterfly's touch—fleeting, special, and memorable.

"The war can wait tonight," Athena murmured, teasing his chest fur so that it fluffed up.

"What war?" he asked, drawing her chin back with light pressure from one finger. His lips caressed hers again, worries falling away like autumn leaves.

* * *

 **A/N: Don't hate me for this horribly sad moment here. I've already cried my eyes out during the writing of it. At least they had this much on their last night together.**

 **I can't believe how hard it was to get everybody to this point. My original outline seemed so simple, then all those details came crashing down and it was much** _ **much**_ **harder than I ever anticipated. At least it's finally done!**


	10. Mortesen's Battle

**Chapter 10: Mortesen's Battle**

Nymph looked toward the rising sun. She had shape-shifted into a hedgehog and dressed as a castle servant, hiding her face with the sweet beauty of a glamour. Nobody questioned her. One of the soldiers from Atlantis saw her step cautiously onto the dock and hold out a box as though not sure how to give it to him.

"Are you offering that to me, maid?" he asked.

Nymph bit her lip, a little blush touching the creamy fur of her cheeks. "The Royal family is grateful for your people's aid. They sent me with this gift for your king and queen."

"I will see that it is delivered to them," the soldier said, accepting it.

He mistook her pleased smile as a harmless one. The malice didn't truly show itself until she turned away, feet rapping on the boards as she purposefully walked back toward the castle. When she reached the teleportation pavilion, Nymph gave a peculiar cough and then bobbed a curtsy to the king's brother before hurrying off in the direction of the beach.

Rakar's lips pulled upward. Atlantis would be in mourning before long.

* * *

Athena helped Mortesen into his armor, not saying anything as he stood there in front of the mirror. When the king started helping her with hers, she felt his fingers pause then begin stroking her quills in a gentle, nostalgic way. A deep sigh dragged out of his chest.

"Athena, you're so strong, but I… I've never…"

"You think _I'm_ strong?" His wife turned to take his face in her hands so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "How many times have you comforted me when I cried? How many times have you held me when things went wrong? Without _you_ I would be a husk of the person I am. You have always been my strength."

He quirked a smile that vanished almost immediately. "If I have ever been strong, it was always because of your influence, love. You've always pulled out the best in me and I can't stand the thought of losing you. Please. _Don't go out there_."

"If you go, I go."

"I can't stay behind."

"Neither can I."

Without warning he pulled her close. Kisses born of eternal devotion passed between them, overshadowed by the knowledge that the battle would begin in hours. And battles always had casualties. He prayed she wouldn't be one of them.

They had already lingered as long as they could. Three times messages had come saying the troops were prepared to move into position, only waiting on the king's presence. Mortesen finally left, heading off to join the captains in the Royal Hall one last time, but as she stepped out of her chamber a minute later, she was surprised to find two people there. Eliza stood in the hallway, glancing sidelong at Benonic and yet trying not to seem as though that's what she was doing.

"Queen Athena," the pink hedgehog started, pulling herself up straight. "There is a woman in the king's study. She said she wanted to speak with you privately."

This sounded odd, but she followed Eliza there without comment and her adopted son trailed two steps behind. On entering the room, she recognized the one waiting for her.

"Lini?"

The former slave dropped to her knees in a bow so low that her forehead nearly touched the tiled floor. She had opted to wear a long, yellow dress which made her both proud and embarrassed to be garbed in something so high above her station.

"Please, we've been through this several times," Athena sighed, taking her by the hand. "A curtsy is enough. Did you need something?"

Once Lini was on her feet, she timidly indicated a queen chess piece on the map. "You will be…here?"

"Yes. The center is the safest place and Mortesen wouldn't agree to any other position for me."

The magenta fox stared silently for a time, one hand reaching up to touch her bare throat. Finally she whispered, "If you are there when the sun sets, you will die."

* * *

The Rofakians were on the east side of the valley, crossing in a slow surge like a mudslide. In the west, Gardford's standard waved above the heads of ferrets, weasels, squirrels, chipmunks and stoats. They came forward in a double-wedge maneuver, inviting the Coizards to come meet the first small ranks of soldiers, but they knew doing so would cause them to be overwhelmed by those behind. The defenders continued to hold firm, not budging from their stations by the trees.

There were a series of noticeable disturbances every so often as the opposing armies encountered deep furrows and trenches along the valley floor. They were forced to climb down, then climb up the other side. And since the shallowest ones were waist-deep, it took time for fully-armored soldiers to get across. It broke the Gardfordian formations, especially their solid blocks of spearmen.

Mortesen watched. His eyes turned westward, noting how late the day was getting. Why had their enemies waited so long before attacking? It was nearly six in the afternoon. There were only a couple hours of full daylight left. He knew many species they faced were nocturnal by nature, but not all of them. What sort of plan did Lugius and Martharine have?

At least the Coizards had been able to effectively use the time bought by blocking the Bantam River. The water channels were ready, and already the foremost lines had reached his men. The king of Coxium took the mirror from his saddlebag, saying, "King Posiden."

Instantly the merhog stared at him from the other side. "Is it time?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Let the tide rise!" he shouted to other merhogs out of sight.

This was a serious gamble. They had been unable to test this plan. As it was, the Gardford-Rofakian army could only see long pits dug into the ground—ones easy enough to cross and were therefore no real threat. It would be completely unexpected and possibly be just the advantage they needed to win against superior numbers. _ **If**_ it worked correctly.

Seawater filled the two trenches, each almost three miles long, sweeping forward with a frightening speed. The merhogs certainly knew how to make a wave wash inland. Enemy soldiers hurried to clamber out and those behind were reluctant to cross now, but their lieutenants urged them forward with curses and threats. The next group who tried to ford it suddenly found themselves facing a cluster of abalone spearheads. Arrows designed to pierce the hides of sharks plunged among them, ripping through thick armor and felling—if not permanently injuring—their victims.

But one thing no one had accounted for was the mud. Loose earth stirred up and created a thick soup that made it next to impossible for the merhogs to stay underwater. It was like trying to breathe in smoke. They had no choice but to stay on the surface, which made them vulnerable to attacks. At least the frond-like pattern of the channels made it easy for them to slip between ranks, attack and then retreat.

Thanks to the information Athena gleaned from Lini, they knew the magic-users would primarily be kept behind the first few ranks of soldiers, and at a certain signal they would fly forward in a blitz assault meant to overwhelm and devastate their enemies, then fall back to wait for the next opportunity. It was a deadly and extremely effective tactic Lugius had utilized quite well since landing. Lightning and fire would spread out in terrifying waves, the earth and tree roots rising up to attack, and even the soldiers' own shadows throttled them. No one could stand against a magical storm of that magnitude.

With the entire force split into three uneven sections by the water channels, the magic-users were left completely exposed to the merhogs. They took full advantage of the surprise, remembering Mortesen's concerns that these were drugged Coizards who were not fully aware of their actions.

Archers located them and targeted the handlers. Within minutes a third of the slaves were standing beside their dead masters, unable to use magic and not sure what to do.

One merhog had an idea and called out to a hedgehog who stood there, completely lost. "You, slave! I will be your master now. Come over here."

Obediently the slave unwrapped his leash from the dead Rofakian's arm and went to the water. The merhog swiftly carried him downstream and left him on the main riverbank with orders to wait there. Others followed his example, coaxing the slaves away from the battle and out of harm's way. In this manner most of them were rescued.

Because of the loss of so many magic-users, the blitz attack only was able to occur four times on the front lines. Though it threw the Coizards into disarray, it was not disastrous and they were able to rally within a short time.

Magic was not solely used by the enemies either. Thanks to the spread of useful techniques and strategies, even the Coizards who were weaker in magic were able to find ways to defend themselves. Tiny explosions of fire in one's face startled the most stalwart soldiers, others tripped over spikes of rock that hadn't been there a second earlier, and electric shocks traveled along swords, making their owners' hands go numb. The Nature-wielders sent out flurries of leaves with razor-keen edges as Wind-wielders made whorls that carried dust to blind their attackers.

But despite the split armies and element of surprise, the Gardford-Rofakian army was clearly far more disciplined and experienced. Captains and lieutenants steered their forces away from the water, pressing westward where there were no trenches. Lightning-users sent electricity into the water, killing merhogs by the dozen, and Earth-users shoved dirt in so that the soldiers could cross safely.

Mortesen could see the left flank of Gardfordians bulging out as they sought to go around and rejoin the front ranks who were engaged directly with Coizards. It was his responsibility to keep that from happening. Motioning to a blue rabbit, the king gave orders and sent him off.

The runner carried Mortesen's message as fast as he could, reaching the trees half a mile away in just under a minute. He found the deer lieutenant in charge of the mounted forces and saluted.

"The king says you're to send half the cavalry out at the sign of the red flare."

The deer nodded wordlessly, pulling out a covered bucket and calling for his riders to mount. While they obeyed, he went along the line of Kodom lizards, handing out what looked like fur cut into long strips. They were tied to the harnesses, and immediately the lizards began to toss their heads and claw at the earth. Some champed their teeth and made angry noises.

The runner stared in surprise. "I've never seen Kodom lizards act like that. They're always so gentle."

"It's the pelts," a soldier behind him laughed. "Burrow wights are the natural enemies of Kodom lizards. The smell drives them crazy. Don't get too close or you might end up losing a limb."

The rabbit backed off a healthy distance, watching warily as each lizard pranced beneath the weight of two riders armed with spears. Then a red light went streaking into the sky. The lieutenant shouted, making the whole line of twitching reptiles jerk forward. They charged onto the open field, searching for the burrow wights with wild eyes.

Thankfully they were still compliant to the guiding hands of their riders, allowing themselves to be led directly into the rear of the Gardfordian flank. Suddenly faced with the scent of blood and sharp weapons, all the rage building inside the lizards came out in a savage explosion of teeth, claws and warbling cries.

Attacked on two fronts, confusion turned to hysteria. No one wanted to face the giant reptiles or fight with their backs to them. The mounted soldiers laid about with their spears, cutting down men with swift thrusts. One Gardfordian near the edge ran back toward the main army, then two more followed. Others saw them and broke formation too, leaving their comrades' backs undefended. The panic spread until almost all of them were in flight. Those who remained either fought in a suicidal rage or threw down their weapons.

The cavalry hurried back to the trees before a new, more organized force of Gardfordians came out to protect their shattered flank. Those who surrendered were immediately taken captive and ushered off the field to a holding camp.

Mortesen breathed a sigh of relief. The first wave had been repulsed. If not for the suggestion of a stable boy who took care of the lizards, they would have been poorly suited for this attack. As it was, the scent of a burrow wight had been perfect to make them aggressive enough to rival warhorses. This had never been done before, though. No one knew how long the lizards would put up with the scent.

He turned his eyes toward the sun again, growing nervous once more. Not long before dark. At least the merhogs wouldn't have trouble, but he needed a way for his forces to see. He called another runner, sending him with a message for all Light-wielders in his contingent to fall back and prepare to create orbs of light as soon as darkness started to fall.

* * *

Lugius stroked Tar'Valon's cheek without looking at her, feeling heat of a blush creeping beneath her skin. She kept the shadows wrapped around their small group, making them perfectly invisible as they moved past enemy lines.

"Well done, Beautiful. Maybe once this battle is over and we're able to relax in the castle, I'll have you dance for me."

The green and tan cat had been an Aes'Sedai once, and the first time he watched her dance with shadows and sing, that haunting melody had lit a fire inside him… He'd felt how incredibly strong she was in Darkness and what a waste her talents had been put to as an entertainer. Besides, the week before another one of his pets had been taken to the "seclusion camp" for wilders with child and he needed a replacement.

She had been difficult—not like most of his pets who were raised in Rofaki and learned to bend properly to the will of those who held their leashes. Even as an Aes'Sedai slave, Tar'Valon was accustomed to a certain amount of freedom, and her expectations after being bought by a king were much different from what she was given. Being collared caused her to devolve into a wretched, miserable thing for over two months, but he refused to make the task easier by dosing her with an addling potion.

This cat was his favorite because she'd been by far the most challenging, but he'd still tamed her in the end. He fully trusted her with his life.

The center of the Coizard formation was just ahead. He'd been observing their movements all afternoon, finally pinpointing the most likely place from where King Mortesen was directing his forces. It had been simple to skirt the rings of "moonlight" created by Light-wielders, but though he knew his objective, every time he came close to a particularly strong magic-user Lugius could not pass up the opportunity. He'd knock the soldier unconscious with a fist of Wind to the back of the head and collar him, wholly unnoticed in the confusion. There would be time to come fetch them later, but he didn't want to risk any of the best getting themselves killed because they were fighting a losing battle.

Sounds of weapons clashing faded slightly. They were past the rearmost rank of Coizards, leaving no one between him and the army's commanders. The jackal saw someone coming from behind and stepped aside with his three pets as another runner went by with information. After a pause, he slipped forward, following the trail.

Kill the king, conquer the country. It was simple. Without leadership the army would dissolve into a chaotic mess, easily picked apart by his men and Martharine's.

They found their quarry within a couple minutes. More than ten soldiers were clustered around a table covered with maps. They murmured in low voices, moving clusters of stones that represented different forces on the battlefield.

"The merhogs had to retreat because the middle of their channel was blocked, but the captain told me they plan to send a new wave in a few minutes. That should clear the path."

"Good," a woman said clearly, full authority in her voice. "I've been worried about that. See to it that the enemy Lightning-wielders are pushed back to give the merhogs room to breathe. I want more of those handlers dead in the next attack. They're too elusive. They must be disguising themselves somehow and getting close without being seen."

Lugius nearly cursed aloud when he realized it was not King Mortesen. But then a crown glinted in the lamplight and he realized he'd found Queen Athena. Smiling at his good fortune, he slowly made his way behind her. The short, thin figure at her side (a bodyguard perhaps?) kept scanning the area, more than once looking back almost directly at them, but he never appeared to see past their Shadow Cloak.

They were within a dozen feet of her when he placed a hand on his pet hedgehog's shoulder, signaling that it was her task. The masked glow of Fire magic coated Cinder's hands, ready to kill the queen who stood there, oblivious to her impending death.

Then the earth dropped out from beneath their feet!

The girls cried out in alarm even as he shouted for them to do something—but he lost grip on his magic and it caused their collars to tighten, preventing them from using it. The ground sealed above them and their voices went silent.

Everyone darted forward to protect their queen, but no attack came. Athena took several deep breaths, trying to slow her wild hearts. It had been frightening to set herself up as bait this way, but Lini's warning possibly kept her from being murdered. Benonic's knives were still drawn. He'd been ready to kill the assassins if the trap hadn't sprung soon enough.

"Lini, how deep is the hole?" Athena called out into the darkness, just beyond a stand of cottonwood trees. When there was no answer, she started to grow concerned. "Lini? Are you out there?"

Benonic hurried to place where Lini told them she would hide, but though he detected her scent, she had not been there in more than an hour. He followed it, finding the entrance to a tunnel she'd made earlier so that they could access the trap if anyone fell into it. But the entrance was blocked by a single face of solid rock. Athena stopped behind him, staring in disbelief.

"No… She didn't…"

* * *

Farrell. She was doing this for _him_. He would be alive now if it weren't for the king and his ambition to take over Cosium. Queen Athena told her she was brave. From now on she would be. No matter how hard it was, she _had_ to be strong.

Lini felt footsteps above her. There were several and they crept slowly toward Athena from behind. She knew it was him. He had been training her to do this very thing alongside his other pets: slip in under a Shadow Cloak and assassinate anyone in a position of authority.

The brittle surface cracked beneath their weight. Rubble flowed down into her self-made cave, carrying four people along with it, then she closed the ceiling to prevent them from escaping. The only light came from her hands and she was able to see Lugius lying there, tangled among the leashes as they all tried to figure out what happened. He managed to help Elmindreda, the bobcat Lightning-user, to her feet. Tar'Valon was alright too, but Cinder's leg had been hurt in the fall and she couldn't stand. The king removed her leash from his wrist, reassuring his pet that he'd get a healer soon.

Then he laid eyes on the one who had set the trap. "Lini?!"

"Lini is free," the magenta fox said, her voice barely above a whisper. Remembering Farrell again gave her the strength to continue. "Master will never be able to leave this place. It was made to be your grave."

The king of Rofaki looked around, noting that there seemed to be no exit. The walls were perfectly smooth, not so much as a hint of where the door out could be. His tone grew soft, tempting.

"Come now, Lini. You've known the truth since you were a child. This 'freedom' you think you have is an illusion. Where will you go? What will you do? And how do you think everyone will look at you when they find out where you are from and what you have done? You will become a victim of your own fears." He opened the satchel that hung diagonally across his chest, taking out one of many collars he'd brought and holding it toward her. "This is where you belong. I can take away all the unpleasant choices. Don't you remember how easy it was for you?"

"Lini remembers." A hand had reached up to cover her cheek. "She remembers being afraid, and because of that you slapped her. Lini will _never_ go back to you."

He paused, then what looked like regret flashed across his face. "Sometimes we hurt those we care for very much. We make mistakes. I made one that night and I have wanted to fix it ever since. You have made mistakes too. I'm sure you understand."

Her resolve seesawed dangerously between the way she'd been trained and her newborn ability to make decisions.

"I know it can be hard, Lini, but being collared kept you safe and secure. Your life was simple and everything you could ever need was given to you. Have you known a single moment of peace since you left?"

She wavered, not realizing he had been inching forward all this time. Her eyes fastened on the collar, pulled to it as his voice guided her thoughts like a snake-charmer with a snake. He understood the turmoil and confusion that always hung over her, so often making Lini cry bitterly in secret. Maybe…maybe he was right after all…

"You didn't really want me to die trapped down here. You wanted to see me again, didn't you? Why else would you have waited in this place all alone without any defense?"

Now the black jackal was nearly close enough to reach out and touch her, but he refrained. It was too risky to startle her. He wanted her to voluntarily return. His Element and those of his pets were no use getting out of here, so the only way to escape was by using her.

"Come back, Beautiful," he murmured, coaxing gently as he extended his fingers to her just a little. "You can be mine again, this time forever. Let me love you and you'll see."

His words reminded her of Farrell. He'd warned that Lugius would use her until he grew tired of her.

Lini's eyes flashed and her resolve tightened once more. "If you truly love your pets then why do you call them by your wife's name? What happened to all the others you have had? How many of them did you promise to love 'forever'?"

In the pale light she saw the other girls' eyes widen with painful realization as their master stood stiffly, unable to find an answer. Cinder and Elmindreda started to cry—forced to face the truth they never wanted to admit to themselves—but Tar'Valon only looked blank.

Blue light flared over Lugius's hands and a solid club of Wind struck Lini in the side of her head. She felt herself flung to the ground, the whole world a mass of white and blue sparks that faded in and out of the darkness. When her eyes were finally able to focus, she saw him over her. A snarl had transformed him into a beastlike creature, fangs bared and fur bristling.

The fox shook, terrified. How could she have been so _foolish?_ Did she really think he would quail in front of her or hang his head in shame just because she was free? He had complete power over her even when there was no leash. She shielded her neck before he could put the collar on her.

"You are a _slave_ and nothing more!" the king growled. "Whether you submit or if I have to force you, the end will be the same. You _will_ be mine, you little—!"

The words he bellowed at her were vulgar, making Lini shrink back. Invisible binds of Wind yanked her hands away and he placed the collar around her throat, the snarl turning into a wicked, triumphant grin. Tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Stop that!" he shouted, collar still poised to snap shut.

But then Lini realized he wasn't talking to her. His head was turned toward Tar'Valon…whose hands glowed deep purple. Black tendrils had wrapped around his wrists and torso, keeping him motionless.

"I said _release me_."

"No more," the cat said, an undertone of stubbornness there. "Tar'Valon was happy once. She loved to sing and dance, and she dreamed of being free someday. Ever since you bought her, that dream shattered. She— _ **I**_ —will no longer live this way. If I must die to finally be rid of you, so be it."

Lugius couldn't move to take her leash from his wrist, so he let go of his magic to cut her off from hers. Darkness descended over the little cave, then there was an infuriated scream. Lini used the distraction to roll out of reach. Sounds of a struggle echoed through the black, then the king gagged as though he was being choked. His rattling breaths were far too loud, then they stopped completely. The sudden silence was frightening.

Lini took hold of her magic, the earthy glow illuminating enough to see him sprawled on the ground, his own knife jammed through the collar bone and partly into his chest. It was a surprise to see that Tar'Valon hadn't been responsible. She lay several feet away, just beginning to sit up with a deep bruise near her temple. Blood stained the young bobcat's hands instead. Her eyes met Lini's, tears continuing to spill down.

"Elmindreda was always scared of him too," she said as well as she could between whimpers. "She knew he was lying all along. But what could she do? He would have taken what he wanted even if she refused. Pretending to love him made it…easier."

The magenta fox swallowed before going over to them, using her Earth magic to crack their collars. They waited, furtive eyes glancing at the jackal who had violated them countless times. The girls had no idea what to do with themselves now, not even Tar'Valon.

"Come with me," she said with an authority she didn't feel. Lini helped Cinder stand, supporting her so that the injured leg didn't take any weight. "I can take you to a safe place."

A portion of the stone wall dissolved, leading them from the king's crypt and into a world of alarming but long-coveted liberty.

* * *

The lady-in-waiting, Carla, sat upon a roan mare that had been taken from an abandoned farm, watching over the battlefield from a high position in the rear. She resisted the urge to massage the side of her head. The queen never would have done so in front of her subjects.

"Keep our soldiers from splitting off to the west. They must stay together," she said in Martharine's voice.

"My Queen," the leader of one House said with a trace of concern, "it may be advantageous for our men to go around the merhogs and come at the Coizards from a different angle."

"No. Separating from Lugius's forces makes us too vulnerable. We outnumber them. Breaking into pieces will weaken us and the Coizards will…"

She stopped, unable to avoid putting a hand to her forehead. The headache had been growing worse all day, now so severe that Carla had difficulty focusing. Perhaps the transformation potion was not meant to be used for such a long period of time.

But if she could just last an hour longer, it would mean the success of Lord Rakar's carefully-laid plan to destroy the Gardfordian army without any of them understanding until it was too late. Then the Houses would be crippled without their soldiers, leaving the peasantry free of their overbearing rule. With no military force to impose their will, the nobles would be stripped of power and reduced to figureheads. _That_ was a worthy goal to her.

"My Queen, are you well?"

She snapped upright, bracelets jangling as she assumed Martharine's countenance once more. "I am capable of directing this battle, Lord Felltree. Do not assume a mere headache will incapacitate me."

"I am only being mindful of your health," he hurried to assure her. "Ever since this morning you have looked strained and you seem moreso now. I worry you are overtaxing yourself."

"My stamina will outlast yours!" Carla snapped, jerking the horse's reins so that the animal mouthed the bit irritably. "This battle is too important for me to leave in the hands of—"

Pounding swelled behind her eyes, forcing the false queen to shut them tight. An anguished cry escaped her mouth and she drooped in the saddle. Several House nobles leaped forward, helping her to lie flat on the ground. Unveiled pain covered her face as she clutched her head and gave a moaning sob.

"He lied to me…" she whispered too low for anyone to catch.

Carla lost consciousness, then several minutes later her heart ceased beating. The potion's effects melted away, leaving every noble and general to stare at a brown ferret in stupefaction.

"Who is she?"

"The queen's servant, I think."

"Where is Queen Martharine?"

They stared at one another, not sure if this was some other test orchestrated in secret by their liege or if Carla had killed and replaced her. One House leader excused himself, rushing toward the men under his direct command. Within moments the others realized he was trying to take control of the battle. If he won the victory, he would be within legal rights of claiming the throne afterward.

The remaining nobles dashed away, determined not to let themselves be outmaneuvered. Carla's body lay on the earth, adorned with Martharine's dress and bracelets. Nobody thought to mourn her.

No one suspected this reaction was part of a plan. Rakar's knowledge of their mistrust in each other worked in his favor. A divided army could only win a battle by accident, and things were going badly for the invaders already.

* * *

 **In Atlantis…**

Sapphire watched her mother accept the beautiful box from a servant. The seven-year-old princess swam closer, reaching out to feel the wood and marveling at the strange way it felt compared to clamshell boxes.

"Is it _really_ made out of a tree?" she asked, continuing to stroke the side.

"I'm sure it is. We don't have many land-baubles, do we?" Queen Marissa laughed. She slowly opened it to see the contents. "A necklace and an armband. I suppose that one is a gift for your father."

"Mama, can I wear the necklace? _Please?_ " the little merhog begged, her fingers sneaking toward the bright, teardrop-shaped ruby.

She was within a quarter-inch of it when her mother sighed and pulled it away. The box closed with a muffled, underwater _snap_.

"It's polite to wait until your father returns. Half of this is for him, after all, and it's not good manners to play with someone else's gift the day they receive it. Perhaps tomorrow. You can have the box if you like, Saph-fish," the woman smiled, hugging her around the shoulders to show that she didn't hold her daughter's eagerness against her.

"But Daddy might not be back for hours and _hours!_ Can't you just try it on real quick? You can put it back again and he'll never know!" Sapphire's eyes sparkled.

The merhog queen set the box down on a carved shelf of her bedroom, but her hands still rested on the wood as though reluctant to let go.

"Well… I suppose it's alright."

The necklace slipped out and Sapphire swam in tight circles, giggling excitedly. Marissa clasped it behind her neck and looked into the mirror. Pride and admiration filled her eyes. It was the most lovely jewel she had ever seen—clear and vibrant, almost lit with an inner flame.

Marissa swayed, covering her face with the onset of severe dizziness. Something didn't feel right. The fingers that had touched the jewel felt limp and her chest had gone numb, making it harder to breathe.

"Mama, what's happening to you?!"

Her eyes went back to the mirror and she froze. Blisters had appeared on her fur directly touching the necklace, a terrifying shade of red. Marissa tried to scream as she realized what this was, but something had already begun to close on her throat. Her muscles started to jerk, sending waves of lightning along her bones.

"Mama!" Sapphire cried, holding onto her arm as the queen collapsed to the floor, shaking and twitching. "Help! Anybody!"

A dozen servants piled into the room, all trying to find out what was wrong. But Marissa knew they could do nothing. It was rhapsor oil—the deadliest poison known to merhogs. The numbness was only on the surface. Fire now spread from the place where the ruby touched, forcing her heart to pound harder as her gills struggled for air.

Marissa was suffocating!

As she lay on the floor surrounded by faces, one stood out as much as the terrified eyes of her daughter, unnoticed by anyone else. In the mirror she could see someone laughing… someone she had once called a friend… someone she had falsely accused of betraying her… someone whose present torment was Marissa's fault…

Nymph's cackle was silent, but she grinned at Marissa's increasing agony as the merhog thrashed on the floor of her bedchamber. One hand clawed at the necklace, managing to rip it off before a new flood of intolerable pain swept over her body and a shrill scream finally made its way out.

Sapphire clung tightly to her, crying for her mother over and over. The minutes dragged on until at last Queen Marissa's body stopped its violent shuddering and stilled forever. Then the arms of her nursery-maid folded around her. Sapphire's tearless sobs shook every fiber of her being, all thoughts devastated and self-blaming.

"I asked her to wear it! It's all my fault, Nanny!"

"Sapphire, you did not poison her," the old merhog said, stroking her quills. "You bear no guilt in this. Do you see that armband in the box? If your mother had waited, both she and your father would have died. The Trident still sings his name. He lives."

The princess turned her gaze to the three-pronged weapon in the corner of her parents' chamber. He'd purposely left it behind to reassure his family of his well-being. It remained bright gold, untarnished. Yes, he was alive. That at least was one thing she still had.

But her mother…her beautiful, perfect mama…

Sapphire's wail of grief nearly broke the hearts of those who heard it echo throughout the palace.

* * *

Mortesen accepted the message from a runner and read it quickly. "My brother's troops are being pushed back and he thinks Athena may be in danger too." He paused. "I want four units to break off and go to their assistance."

At his side Lieutenant Horatio gaped. "But Sire—that's over five hundred troops you're sending away! That leaves you with barely three hundred soldiers here. What if they try to flank us again?"

"We'll move inward and join forces with Captain Gawain. The main bulk of our enemies is in the center and we ought to focus our defenses there if we can."

Nothing could dissuade him from this decision, and five hundred men marched farther east to assist other troops. The first line of cavalry had to retreat because the Kodom lizards were growing overly violent and thereby unmanageable from being exposed to the scent of burrow wights for so long. A second group was brought forward, but Mortesen ordered them to attack the rearmost troops trying to skirt the merhog channels. Now they were nearly two miles away from his position and he could not follow their movements in the darkness, but they had a good lieutenant and he trusted they would take care of themselves.

"How long have we been out here, Lieutenant Horatio?" he wondered, feeling the pressure of many hours weighing down on him.

"I cannot say, Sire," the Light-wielding mink by his side said with a shrug. "It feels as though it ought to be daybreak soon, but I would not be surprised if it was barely past midnight."

He shook his head tiredly. "How many times have we repulsed the Gardfordians?"

"Eleven as of the last attack. They have no place to retreat thanks to the merhogs, so the rear ranks simply trade places with the front when they can. It's the only way they can regroup and they do it quickly, but each time it seems easier to repel them."

"They must be near the end of their strength," Mortesen sighed in relief. "But it's best not to let our guard down. We're vulnerable. Let's stay here a little longer to make sure there won't be another attack and then move inward. We should be grateful we aren't facing the Rofakians and their leashed magic-users."

* * *

The runner returned to Rakar a short time after with the news. Once he was sure the troops had been shifted into the main body of their army, he spoke to one of his personal lieutenants, entrusting the direction of his contingent to him.

The red-brown hedgehog slipped through the enemy ranks without being seen thanks to a Shadow Cloak. He stopped, coming across a dead captain. Kneeling down, he inspected the collie for several minutes. When he stood up again, no one could have detected a difference between him and the dead canine. Tying off the illusion using a sophisticated technique that kept it in place without needing to hold onto his magic, he went toward one of the more sheltered areas where some Rofakians were gathering to mobilize themselves for a new attack.

"My scouts and I have located the Coizard king. We'll be able to rid ourselves of him with a well-organized strike force," he told them.

The news was so exciting that no one suspected that he may not be one of their own. Rakar described the defenses on the southwest flank, saying there were only three hundred soldiers. A plan immediately took form. With the lizard-cavalry focused to the north, the path southward was clear as long as they were careful not to be spotted.

They followed the false captain to an empty segment of the waterway between two merhog bands. Using one of the wilders to create a temporary bridge of solid air, they crossed a few at a time. All thirty soldiers plus several handlers and their eight wilders made their way to the very edge of the battlefield, then the handlers conferred with each other in low voices to determine their strategy.

During their conversation, the "collie" stepped out of sight without anyone noticing.

* * *

Darren watched his brother disappear through the window, taking Grandmother Amuera's bracelet with him. The younger prince rubbed his wrist, missing it already.

Lying in bed and thinking about what could be happening out there only made him worry. After a little while he got out of bed and lit the lamp with a tinderbox. There was no going back to sleep now anyway, so he might as well occupy his mind with his notes. Or rather his uncle's notes.

Pulling the bundle of papers out of his desk's hidden compartment, Darren sat down, put on his glasses and flipped to a worn set of pages. Several times he went over the same passage that he'd been reading for days.

"Cosmos Diamonds have so much excess energy that it leaks out. The one who holds it absorbs most of this, but supposedly other members of the Royal family can as well to a lesser extent. This can enable them to utilize the phenomenon known as 'Chaos Control' under certain circumstances—far different from teleportation in its power to bend space and time. Not enough is known about it to fully determine the extent of its limitations or risks."

The ebony hedgehog sighed. This part wasn't hard. It was the next that seemed more confusing. Rakar's notes devolved into scribbles written in such a way that they seemed to have been jotted down while he was upset. The only explanation he'd been able to guess for this sudden change in Rakar's rigid, concise hand was that he discovered something personally unsettling about the information.

"Does it require a certain amount of Royal blood?" "Does constant exposure rather than occasional exposure make a difference?" "What does it feel like?" "Is a pure lineage crucial?"

Judging by the questions scrawled in the margins and partly-crossed out, Darren thought perhaps he might know the answer… It was possible Rakar had tried unsuccessfully to use "Chaos Control".

But there was another section that was not so much confusing as fascinating. He turned to a different page, red eyes taking on a glint of excitement as he read the words yet again and tried to imagine it.

"Unconfirmed records in the Academy archives describe a connection between Cosmos Diamonds and legends of the 'prime-class Elemental'. Years of influence and close contact with a Cosmos Diamond could cause the magic-user to _become_ an Elemental rather than summoning one. The last supposed occurrence was two generations ago during an attack on the Royal family of Emeralias. …Doubtful reports. If it was true my father ought to have been able to use it to defend himself and my mother."

Darren ignored the last sentence and the way it had been written with harsh, angry letters. What must it be like? Turning into an Elemental…?

* * *

The few dozen soldiers who were left crowded around Mortesen protectively, more than two hundred of their comrades scattered over the field and drenched with their own blood. The attack had come out of nowhere, decimating their forces within a single minute. If they'd even had ten seconds of warning—!

The first thing he'd done was grab the Atlantian mirror and shout Posiden's name, but he had to let go to avoid a streak of Lightning and it shattered on the ground.

Mortesen had drawn his sword, but stood there almost helpless against the barrage of arrows, spears and magic projectiles. He hardly knew any magical techniques, but he couldn't simply fade away and leave his men behind! Kicking up sand in a whirlwind, he tried to help, only to see it blasted apart by a different wind that spun in a perfectly opposite pattern. Recovering quickly, Mortesen tried again, but the same thing happened.

"Sire, go!" Horatio yelled, sending up another flare for help, but a great cloud of darkness hanging over the entire area blotted it out. He'd had to banish the light globe to keep from illuminating themselves as targets, but the darkness hardly seemed to hinder their enemies.

Mortesen shook his head. "I can't leave you!"

"We're dying for _your_ sake!" he insisted as another pair of soldiers fell victim to a giant ball of red fire. "Don't make us regre— _ **get down!**_ "

Mortesen felt the mink bowl him over. He shoved himself back up, realizing the Light-wielder had taken an arrow shaft in place of his king. Suddenly remembering a skill one of the Wind-users had described, the black hedgehog made a blue sphere materialize around them in an attempt to shield the injured soldier. …But nothing could be done. Already there was no life in his friend's eyes.

"Horatio!" he cried out uselessly.

Mortesen gently lowered the body to the ground. His eyes swept the small clearing, seeing the last few Coizards fall beneath swords. Corpses littered the entire area. Loyal, good men who had died for him…

Fierce anger blistered inside, darker and deeper than anything he'd ever experienced in his entire life. Arrows beat against the barrier, only adding to his rage.

The blue Wind magic swirled as though agitated, glowing brighter until many of the soldiers had to turn away. An instant later it exploded, sending hundreds of glasslike shards in every direction. They sliced through armor and flesh, killing most of the Rofakians on impact.

But not all. Four wilders had hung back, protected by the trees. Their handlers grew cautious after they'd lost half their magic-users in an attack several minutes earlier by the remaining soldiers. One turned to the two slaves whose leashes he held.

"Greyling, Riyah, do either of you have enough energy to summon Elementals?"

His mongoose and the female tiger stood up straight, nodding vigorously. They were both from Rofaki, some of the strongest wilders left after the Coizards' escape. Greyling closed his eyes, focusing on all the Wind he had left, and something like smoke pooled in Riyah's hands.

A long, white snake with dozens of wings along its length appeared, arching its head and letting out a hiss that sent a blast of wind through the trees. The Dark-user was impressively strong, able to keep the dense, coal-like cloud covering the area while also summoning a creature like a black phoenix whose eyes fastened on Mortesen.

The two remaining wilders looked to their handlers, each of whom nodded. A creature like a cheetah took form, electricity traveling all over its body as it gave a loud growl. The final slave called upon every last scrap of his Fire which coalesced into a monstrous horned thing that vaguely resembled a bull.

The few Rofakian soldiers left backed away, knowing Elementals often accidentally killed allies who were too close. It was why they were so seldom used in the midst of a battle.

Mortesen turned to confront them, all the authority and power of his station reflected in his stature. No trace of his easy smile and relaxed disposition could be seen now. The king of Cosium tightened his fists, glaring at the Elementals who spat, hissed and growled as they advanced on him arrogantly. No one had ever survived against an attack from one, and here were _four_.

"I will not let myself be killed so easily."

Mortesen could feel his scepter miles away in the throne room. Not once since he'd become king had he tapped into the Cosmos Diamond's power. He hadn't even thought to use it the night he and Rakar adjusted the castle wards. But at this moment—faced with the deaths of so many who sacrificed their lives for him—Mortesen felt something swell inside, clawing to get out.

He freed it.

Light washed over his body, changing the fur golden, his markings standing out like bloody flames. When he opened his eyes again, the irises had turned violet and the world appeared to move a few heartbeats slower, allowing him to see everything before it happened.

The Wind-snake coiled, then shot forward with a flurry of many wings. Mortesen moved. One second he was directly in its path, the next he had grabbed hold of its tail, making it come to a sudden stop. A burst of air flattened everything in the clearing as it hissed in surprise, but then electricity wrapped around him, sending every limb trembling with the shock and he released the snake.

For the barest moment he dropped to his knees, but it didn't seem to harm him. He had the advantage of being able to see the weavings of magic. When a new spear of Lightning streaked toward him, the king snapped a hand out and grabbed hold as though catching an arrow in midair.

He felt rather than saw the Shadow-phoenix dive toward him at the same time that the Fire-bull charged. Mortesen threw the harnessed Lightning at the bird (not paying attention as it gave a surprised, musical shriek) and turned to meet the other with hands outstretched. When the Fire Elemental impacted him, the creature felt as though it had just slammed into a mountain. The gold-furred hedgehog gripped it by the horns, teeth bared. It bellowed, trying to shake loose but unable to.

It was the weakest of them all. He could feel it. Mortesen dug his fingers in deeper until he felt something crack, then heaved it toward the Lightning-cheetah. It exploded into fiery liquid that dissolved the other Elemental into a sizzling pool of light. Then there was not even that.

The two magic-users cried out beyond the trees, their connection forcefully broken. The effect left them lying on the ground, unable to think of anything except the excruciating pain inside.

The last two Elementals could fly, but Mortesen swept a hand toward them, calling the air. Within seconds a stormwind dragged both downward. Before anyone knew what he was doing, he leaped to the giant snake's back. It writhed and twisted, trying to reach him, but a blazing air blade extended from his hand to strike at the many wings along its length. Wild with fury, the snake opened its mouth to swallow him whole—and felt a sword pierce straight through its head.

The last hung back, watching and measuring with its obsidian eyes as its fellow diffused into fragments of air. Then it raised its wings, disappearing into a new darkness that spread outward. Mortesen found himself coated in it.

Nothing existed in this emptiness except himself. Every time he turned, there came a strike from behind that threw him down. If not for the power of the Cosmos Diamond, even one of those attacks would have killed him.

But the phoenix was only casting an illusion, he knew. Shadows always gave way before the sun. So he let the Diamond's light shine.

In the clearing, the sphere of darkness that contained Mortesen cracked. A flare of brilliant light caught the Elemental in the face, melting away half its body. It flapped one wing and gave a cry of terror just before a glowing sword severed its head.

The gold of his fur dimmed as the king of Cosium stood victorious over the creatures that supposedly could not be harmed. He swayed on his feet, feeling every ounce of strength granted by the Cosmos Diamond leave him.

Then he looked up. Eight Rofakian soldiers stood there, glaring with merciless anger.

* * *

A prime-class Elemental… It was _real_ , and Rakar had witnessed it with his own eyes.

He watched the soldiers corner Mortesen. Every particle of fraternal sentimentality he possessed urged him to defend his brother, but he kept himself in check. All he had to do was wait, then plant the evidence that Atlantis was responsible.

But then a massive wave crushed the enemy soldiers and the magic-users, leaving Mortesen unharmed. Posiden rose up from the shallow gully behind the clearing. How could he have possibly known?! The two monarchs exchanged words before the merhog left.

Rakar's heart clenched. This was the last chance. There was no way to avoid it now. He wove an illusion, covering his body with the likeness of scales and pale fur, then tied it off.

The king had dropped wearily to his knees but one ear twitched as movement came from the brush. He looked around, pinpointing Rakar at once. Confusion crossed his face.

"You… You're not a merhog." He stared fixedly as the stranger approached without a word. "Rakar?"

He froze. How could his brother know—?! His aura. Why had he been stupid enough to overlook something so obvious? _Of course_ Mortesen would recognize it.

The beginning of a tired smile tugged at the black hedgehog's mouth, making Rakar feel even worse, but then he grew puzzled again. "What kind of fool joke is this? It isn't the time or place for—"

Rakar darted forward and seized hold, an unnatural stiffness preventing Mortesen from doing anything more than breathe. He wanted so much to rewrite the impulses in this soul so that he wouldn't have to end it—but the same thing happened as before. Just as he started to try, a million needles mentally stabbed him.

The disguised hedgehog hesitated, not wanting to look into those confused, horrified eyes but not able to do this otherwise. Not without saying one last thing. _Explaining_.

"Mortesen, I never wanted this! I would have done _anything_ to keep from standing here—but I _have_ to do it for the survival of Cosium. What you've done will already take so long to fix, and if I don't stop you now, our country will break apart from the inside. I should have killed Athena long ago before she poisoned you, but you seemed so happy with her and I knew you were the only one who…who could supply any heirs for the throne. You won't change. Not willingly. And I won't take that choice from you. It… _it shouldn't have happened this way_."

Teeth gritting, he stepped behind him. The spear's tip pressed into the king's back and he could sense Mortesen struggling to speak. Rakar leaned forward, forehead resting against the other's shoulder as he whispered, "I promise this will all be over in a minute. I'm sorry, Brother… _Forgive me_ …"

Closing his eyes tight, he shoved. Hot blood poured over his hand and he heard Mortesen choke as the air was driven from his lungs.

Then he took the soul. Not all of it—that was impossible—but more than he'd ever tried to take from anyone before. Moments of Mortesen's life sprang into his mind from his older brother's perspective, but most clear was the disbelief, denial and desperate concern for his family he was presently feeling.

Noise nearby caught his ear. A little figure stumbled toward them. Rakar jerked in surprise as he saw Kaze.

What was _**he**_ doing here?!

The illusion of scales and white fur kept him from being recognized, but Rakar still panicked at being caught in the middle of this heinous act and let go of his brother. Mortesen collapsed the moment he was released. His murderer dove into the water.

Kaze hurried to his father's side, gasping as he saw the wound. Without a thought his wings spread wide, but though they attempted to heal the wound, they couldn't do so with the weapon still embedded in the flesh. When the young prince's trembling hands reached out to touch it, his father spasmed, pain flashing across his face.

The blue hedgehog's mind went numb with terror. He wanted to _help_ his father, but anything he did would only cause more agony. Tears flowed as he watched his father cough out blood.

He wished his big brother was here—he would know how to treat Papa's wound! Thoughts of bringing back help or dragging his father to the healers' camp faltered, half-imagined and impossible. He wasn't strong enough to carry him, and if he left now…his papa would die alone…

That made Kaze sob harder at the cruel reality before him. There was only one way to keep this from happening, but again he couldn't make himself touch the spear.

"I can't! Papa, I can't do it!" he cried, covering his face.

Mortesen's half-lidded eyes turned toward Kaze, slowly beginning to lose the spark of life. Despite his fatal injury, his heart hurt even more to know his son was here watching him die. The ebony hedgehog had so many things he wanted to say, but his strength was drifting away like the wind. It pained him to feel the tears of his son showering his face, knowing full well his time was near.

Mortesen could see a looming figure behind Kaze. The trickling sand of her hourglass was louder than it ever should have been, and he could see how little was left.

Kaze knew his father was fading. He couldn't give up now! He still needed him! His father was the strongest man he had ever known. He _had_ to live!

Knowing his father's life hung in the balance, the young prince clamped down on his emotions and tried one last time, but as he took hold of the spearhead a hand suddenly gripped his wrist. Mortesen's mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, as though he had so much to say and no breath to say it, but he met Kaze's eyes steadily, trying to convey something important. The whole world had disintegrated into a bleeding abyss of torture.

Tears streaked down both their faces. His fingers shook as they reached up to touch his son's cheek, then Mortesen managed to say his name with one final gasp. A smear of crimson liquid stained Kaze's face as the last trace of strength faded and his hand slipped down. Great weights pulled at his eyelids until they closed, though he fought desperately against them.

The complete absence of pain was sudden and startling. Then there was a gentle touch along his brow that made him look up.

"It is over, Little One."

Time had slowed to a crawl and he could still see the realization only beginning to pass over Kaze's features beside him. His voice was no more than a whisper as he tried to deny the truth of what had happened.

"Please… _no_."

"King or slave, Death treats all equally. None receive special favors."

Mortesen reached forward, touching yet not feeling the face of his son. It was pointless to argue with her, he knew. "I wish… I wish I could say something. Just one last thing so that he knows how much I love him."

"He knows already. You must be content with that." The mistress of death held out her hand. "Come. Your parents have been waiting for you. I will take you to them."

The former king of Cosium hesitated, an immeasurable sadness filling his soul as he knelt there, watching Kaze clutch at a lifeless body. He didn't want to go. But the knowledge that he was going to see his mother and father again tugged out a secret yearning he'd suffered for years. He rose up and took Lady Death's outstretched hand.

* * *

When Rakar surfaced a little ways downstream, cries echoed from behind…torn, broken cries born of a splintering heart.

He hadn't meant for Kaze to see!

The sight of his parents played before his eyes, swords rammed through their bodies. Rakar couldn't tell if the water dripping from his face was from the river or his own tears. He knelt there in the shallows, making fists in the mud and attempting to keep the misery trapped in that hollow space.

He banished the illusion, letting it drift away so that he could be himself for a moment instead of hiding behind a mask. He'd hidden from Mortesen too. The scars were his disguise and he knew it. Without them he would have no defense…

Rakar found himself walking without paying attention to where his feet were taking him. Nothing seemed to matter for the longest time… It was with a note of shock that he suddenly recognized the beach and its cave nearby. Had he really been wandering about for hours?

A familiar voice pulled him toward the cave entrance. Nymph hovered over a still pool, cackling with delight. When she saw his shadow, her eyes met his with the light of triumph.

"Marissa put on the necklace without a drop of suspicion. Her daughter was there to watch. Seeing her gasp and suffer was far better than I could have dreamed!" Then her tone soured. "But Posiden won't wear the armband now. He still lives, and I doubt I can send anything else to him coated in rhapsor oil. They'll be too wary."

"He may yet die in battle," Rakar said, but his voice was hollow.

"…Did you accomplish your goal?"

"Yes. Mortesen is dead."

The octopus sensed something not quite right in him. His eyes were focused on nothing, but every muscle stretched taut. "Surely you aren't feeling guilty about a job well done."

"I did what I set out to do. I am proud of that. But I hadn't intended…to take his soul…" Images and feelings ran through his mind, pieces of his brother's life, so full of joy and love… His stony exterior cracked and he leaned against a damp boulder, eyes shut. "I can't deal with this…"

She could see the storm of conflict raging inside him. Repeatedly throughout their relationship he had sought to bring her back from anger and despair. Perhaps she could do the same.

Tentacles swarmed over him and Rakar's attention snapped back to the present. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you something you deserve," she murmured into his ear.

He tried to pull back but the lithe, black arms of her lower body kept him from getting away. Her lips met his, not in the seductive way he had grown used to, but with a touch of violent passion that made Rakar wonder if she had been holding back all this time. When she bit his neck hard, he jumped, then clamped his teeth down on hers in retaliation.

They fought back and forth, each kiss more like momentary reprieve during a battle. Her nails would have gouged out handfuls of fur if he hadn't been wearing armor. With a jolt of surprise Rakar realized Nymph had shape-shifted into a hedgehog. He abruptly dragged her close, giving her a kiss so hard and deep that she let out a moan in the back of her throat—a full invitation to do more.

"Thank you for this. I needed it," he whispered, thankful that she had pulled him away from the brink threatening to swallow him. He felt as though he might be able to cope now. "Time for me to get back. Athena will find out what happened and I need to be close by."

But her eyes flashed behind the mask. Rakar felt himself yanked down.

"I refuse to let you get away this time," she muttered, touching his chest with a possessive air. Her fingers fiddled with the buckles. "I'll be delighted to be your first 'conquest'."

His red eyes started to grow angry. "As much as I appreciate the thought, that decision is _mine_."

"You don't even know what you want. I'll show you—"

He melted into the darkness and didn't reappear. Nymph clenched her fists. Very unladylike words came from her mouth as she struck out at anything within reach. Half a mile away, Rakar regained his form and knelt among the brush, breathing hard and running a hand along his quills.

"Control… Control is _everything_ …"

* * *

Horns blared, startling Darren out of a doze. He straightened his glasses and looked around, confused to find himself at his desk. Then he recognized the peal of the Coizard anthem. They…they won? The war was over!

He ran to the window, staring at the sun as it began to rise. The camp outside the city walls was filled with the small figures of men, and more streamed in from the battlefield. Darren breathed in the air that seemed to be steeped in freedom. _Finally_. Finally life could return to normal.

The door opened and he saw the weary, haggard face of his mother. A deep sadness had enveloped her, making the ready cry of happiness die before it reached his lips.

"…Oh no… Did Kaze…? I shouldn't have let him go!"

"Kaze is with Ben," she said, her voice too soft. "He's fine. It's…"

She couldn't say it. But she didn't need to. Darren dropped to the floor as if someone had broken his legs.

* * *

 **A/N: *sniffle* Where are my hankies?**

 **Well…as you can see, the climax is much different from the original. I got Liyu's direct approval for Kaze attempting to heal Mortesen, but other than that everything here is pretty much my overactive imagination at work. It felt wrong to have him overpowered so quickly which is why I included a battle against Elementals. He wasn't a wimp! But it was more of a last-minute addition, so forgive me if the combat comes across as slipshod. I didn't spend as much time on it as I should have. And yes, Mortesen really did go Super.**

 **I know it can be hard to visualize battlefields (especially when they're wonky like this one), so I drew a map. The link can be found in my DeviantArt copy of this chapter in the author's note - my username there is JanikaCheetah.**


	11. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

Athena stayed in her room and did not come out for hours, but the hallway echoed with her heartbroken cries. Every so often they would taper off, only to begin again a short time later. Kaze didn't attempt to stifle the tears, and neither did Ben—after all, the closest thing he'd ever had to a father was Mortesen. Even Rakar, always cold and distant, could not entirely keep his feelings hidden.

But Darren… Somehow he couldn't cry. Ever since the moment he found out…an emptiness filled him. His mind had gone entirely numb and the whole day was spent in a bland stupor. Even hearing it from his mother didn't touch the denial he continued to cling to.

There wasn't time to let the truth sink in before a servant came into his room and helped him into a formal suit to wear for the funeral.

Evening was encroaching on the world when they rode in a carriage toward the battlefield, fully ripe with the stench of death and smoke. It was fitting for the ceremonial place to be there, he supposed. The dead were still being collected, all Coizards to be buried with full honors and the rest to be hastily cremated before they could decay and spread disease.

The merhogs had already taken care of their own lost comrades and rushed home to attend the funeral of their queen. It was one merciful thing to be glad for when it came to the traitors—Cosium wouldn't have to deal with the dead fish.

Their carriage pulled to a stop beside the lonely tower. People were standing in a dense crowd all around, silent except for the partly-muffled sounds of crying. This wasn't just for his father. It was a collective funeral for all the vanquished heroes of this battle, honoring the fallen: friends, strangers, fathers, husbands, brothers…

Darren recognized Captain Alexei and other officers who had arrived mere hours earlier with the rest of the army. They had marched tirelessly for days, desperate to defend their country only to find the war over…and their beloved king killed by his own allies. Mage-Master Briar caught the young prince's eye, conveying without words that he would be there in case Darren needed him.

Cosium Castle's silhouette could be seen against the sky a mile south. The ancient Requiem Stone had always stood apart from the city, and it seemed like a bitter satire that Mortesen had died so close to it.

Together the family passed through the entrance of the grand tower. Taking Athena's hand, Rakar helped his sister-in-law ascend the winding stairs, his expression uncharacteristically gentle as she seemed to find difficulty gathering strength for the task. By the time they reached the top and came out into the open air, the two princes were almost exhausted.

Then they saw Mortesen and all thoughts of their tired muscles fled.

Sunlight began to fade as Darren stared in a daze at the funeral pedestal…the Requiem Stone itself. His father's body lay there dressed as though he was a puppet going to a ball—a mockery of the man he had been. Mortesen's sword rested on his chest, hands folded over the hilt…never to wield it again. Someone had been kind enough to clean away the blood when they replaced the king's armor with his uniform so that his youngest could not see any evidence of the ghastly, fatal wound.

No one moved forward. Athena held tightly to his and Kaze's shoulders, face covered with intense pain as she tried to bridle her emotions.

Minutes passed in silence until the sun finally sank below the lip of the horizon, then markings along the pedestal's sides began to glow. Darren wanted to dart forward and stop this from happening, but his mother's hand was too heavy.

One second his father was lying there—the next he had dissolved.

A great wind surged from the pedestal, so solid that it was visible as a weaving strip of air that glowed and sparkled in its graceful beauty. The king's Element…freed… It soared up into the darkening sky, growing fainter and fainter until there was a sudden burst of light in the heavens. A new star had taken its place.

The mourners in the field below started to keen, having seen the sign that the ceremony was completed. Athena finally gave in to her tears and nearly collapsed, now using her young sons' shoulders to keep upright. Torches around them came to life with soft, blue fire. Just enough to illuminate the space.

The brown hedgehog stepped forward at last, head lowered and hands clutching the edge of the pedestal. After half a minute Rakar picked up the urn that had been made for this occasion, then with great effort he gathered a handful of the dust left behind, letting it run through his fingers into the container.

"Brother…" he whispered in a disheartened voice.

Without looking back he held the urn out. For a few seconds no one moved, then Benonic reached out to take it and did the same. As members of the Royal family they were all supposed to do this. The other two boys managed it with trembling hands but Rakar had to help the queen, she was so distraught. Afterward she knelt there beside the pedestal, unable to staunch her tears and kissing the dust on her fingertips repeatedly.

Someone began to sing from below—a girl who sounded like Eliza—raising her voice in a soft song that invited others to join in. They did until the words spread and flowed through the wide valley where so many had lost their lives. It was a song most Coizards knew.  
 _  
Don't lose your way  
With each passing day  
You've come so far  
Don't throw it away  
Live believing  
Dreams are for weaving  
Wonders are waiting to start  
Live your story  
Faith, hope and glory  
Hold to the truth in your heart_

If we hold on together  
I know our dreams will never die  
Dreams see us through to forever  
As clouds roll by  
For you and I

Darren could hardly breathe. What dreams could he have now that his father was dead? Everything he'd ever wanted to become was gone now…  
 _  
Souls in the wind  
Must learn how to bend  
Seek out a star  
Hold on to the end  
Valley, mountain  
There is a fountain  
Washes our tears all away  
Words are swaying  
Someone is praying  
Please let us come home to stay_

If we hold on together  
I know our dreams will never die  
Dreams see us through to forever  
As clouds roll by  
For you and I

'Hold on'…? To what? Was there anything left?

Darren couldn't bear to watch any longer. He was nearest to the stairwell. His shoes slapped against the stone as he darted through the doorway and he heard Kaze call his name. Master Briar was down there, but he didn't want to see the hare. He didn't want to see _anybody!_

The words he'd read in his uncle's notes came to mind and he said them in a frantic whisper, not even fully comprehending what he was doing.

"Chaos Control!"

Between one step and the next Darren _shifted_ then dropped to his knees, completely winded. It wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but he'd been so desperate to be anywhere else that he didn't care where he went. Then he looked up, finding himself in a place far more painful than the Requiem Stone as he recognized the tree in front of him. The same tree where his father had found him on Kaze's birthday…

The song continued to follow even across all that distance, forcing him to hear words that were so cruel in their optimism.  
 _  
When we are out there in the dark  
We'll dream about the sun  
In the dark we'll feel the light  
Warm our hearts, everyone_

If we hold on together  
I know our dreams will never die  
Dreams see us through to forever  
As high as souls can fly  
The clouds roll by  
For you and I

As high as souls can fly… Where was his father's soul now? Why had he been taken away just when he'd begun to be the figure of paternal love and guidance Darren had always yearned for? What hateful irony ruled his life?!

He saw the light flaring over his hands, creeping up his arms. Vines sprouted from the earth, lighting the area with their glow of magic. His fur seemed to burn with green fire and he could feel control beginning to surge beyond his grasp.

Every rule and method of control drilled into him at the Academy faded to a mumble in the back of his mind. He slipped back into his old habit, letting the vines do as they wished. The pain inside found its way out, pressing from every side. Darren knew that if he didn't regain control he could go comatose from magic fatigue or even burn himself out permanently.

He knew, but he didn't care.

Vines surged everywhere, dense and coiling. Some wrapped around him but he ignored them, calling more and more into existence. The new technique and the old melded in his mind.

Darren didn't realize he was crying until the sobs made his hands shake. Trying to brace himself, he touched the nearest snaking vine. It curled around his arm in response, but he didn't jerk away. It had… _caressed_ him…as though it understood. Impulsively, the young hedgehog called them closer. They swarmed around him and he embraced them, continuing to cry.

He begged to lose himself, to have no thoughts or memories. The young hedgehog knew he was asking the impossible, but he kept trying. There _must_ be a way to block everything out, to mask the pain until there was nothing left!

Just as he started to perceive the vines around him acting very strange, a crushing flood of weakness struck him so hard that he choked into a swoon. Something caught him, wrapping around gently…

Daylight was beginning to creep into the sky, though the last few morning stars stubbornly tried to last longer. Darren blinked, unsure what he was doing outside. A headache pounded inside his head and the young prince tried to reach up…but he couldn't move.

Vines were everywhere, winding about him so snugly that they felt like a warm blanket. He started to struggle and they loosened, then he felt hot breath on his face. The prince looked up into a pair of luminous green eyes. There was just enough light for him to see that the giant dog curling its body around him was not ordinary. Its matted fur hung long and twitched like living vines.

Darren stared in wonder. It couldn't be real.

"Are you an…Elemental?" he whispered.

The creature cocked its head as though not sure what to make of the question. Darren somehow knew it understood him. It just didn't know the answer.

He touched its side, knowing this was impossible. Elementals were the embodiment of magic. They couldn't exist unless someone physically held onto magic, and he had let go of it for…well, all night.

The creature licked his face, smearing him with very real saliva. He laughed suddenly, unable to explain why the pain of his father's death felt farther away. It was still there, but somehow in the presence of this creature he…he _knew_ things that hadn't occurred to him before.

Death was part of life—it came to every living thing. There was no escaping it. And yet he was also aware it was only another beginning. His father no longer seemed so far away, though he didn't know why. The pain of losing him still sat like a monstrous toad in his chest, but trying to forget and barricading himself against the torment of his soul was no solution. There would be no healing down that path. He had to be honest with himself, with his family.

Darren closed his eyes, leaning into the soft pelt of the Elemental at his side. It reminded him of a forest, green and thriving—all its being devoted to stretching up to meet the sky and reaching down through the soil. Plants felt pain too, but they accepted whatever came to them without complaint. Perhaps…he could learn to do the same.

For some time he didn't pay any attention to anything, which is why the voice continuously calling his name went unheard. The golden globe on the east horizon had barely risen above the ocean when he jerked to his feet, surprised to see his mother break through the trees. She still wore her black velvet dress from the funeral and looked as though sleep had been the last thing on her mind this past night.

"Darren!" she cried with sudden joy, but faltered at the sight of the huge green…dog? "What is _that?!_ "

"An…um…a Mystical."

The shock on his mother's face turned into relief. "Oh! Well, I suppose you couldn't have found one at a better time. Everyone's been looking for you since dusk. Master Briar was worried you would grow hysterical." She approached cautiously, looking the creature over. "I've never heard of a Mystical like this. What's his name?"

Darren was still partly shocked at the words that had come out of his mouth, but he managed to answer. "…Dagda."

Athena reached out to touch it and Dagda gazed at her with curious, non-threatening eyes. Darren ran his fingers through the vine-like fur and felt a smile pulling at his mouth.

Another page of notes in his uncle's possession came to mind…about the strangeness of unsettled magic in children. There were instances where advanced techniques could be accomplished with little effort (the way Kaze used to be able to fade in and out of his Element practically without a thought), and very rarely a child would do something so extraordinary (such as an Earth-wielder creating maze-like tunnels throughout an entire mountain) that no one knew how they had accomplished their feat or be able to replicate it.

Even if he wasn't sure how Dagda had come to be, he did know the creature was there for him when he needed it most.

* * *

 **The day after the funeral…**

Queen Martharine felt awareness bleed back into her mind, making her conscious of the headache first, then the cold. She had no idea how long she'd been trapped in her dreams, but it seemed like years. A voice had pulled her out of them. He was close, but not standing over her.

"—hardly needed any encouragement. Once I'm made regent, she'll turn over most authority of ruling the kingdom to me. If she begins to grow too opinionated about how things should be done, I may have to become… _persuasive_."

The ground squirrel's hand felt numb until she moved it, then the long cut that had scabbed over began to throb. A hiss of pain attracted the one who had kidnapped her. Martharine opened her eyes, blinking several times to clear away the blurriness. There was a lantern in the dark hallway, but it hardly illuminated any features of the two figures now staring at her silently.

"Back to your post," Rakar ordered. "I have an interesting experiment I want to try."

The other figure slapped a fist to his chest and left. His departure made her anxious, feeling as though this 'Rakar' didn't want an audience for a reason. Pushing herself up was difficult and she had to lean heavily on her arms, but she managed to meet his eyes with a queenly stare.

"The battle went well, if you were curious. The Rofakians surrendered shortly before daybreak, but your forces splintered and continued to fight after news spread that the queen had abandoned them. There are only a couple thousand left."

Shock stole every ounce of dignity from her. She sat there on stones that seemed to leech all the warmth from her body, squeezing her blue eyes shut to hold back the tears. Where had it gone wrong? Martharine had poured _everything_ into this war—all of it an attempt to fulfill the lifelong ambition of the last three monarchs of her country.

"Are you saying my maid fled the battlefield before the outcome was known?" She'd suspected the ferret was a coward, but she was _still_ a Gardfordian!

"According to some of what we discussed beforehand," Rakar said, apparently in the mood to humor her, "she felt it important to send as many of your troops to the slaughter as possible. The more who died in that pointless battle, the happier she said she would be. But then she didn't expect the transformation potion to be poisoned. Slow-acting, of course, but she lasted long enough to fool the generals into obeying her orders to change several important maneuvers. Once she was dead and they saw who she really was, no one knew what to think. They didn't know if you had purposely used her as a decoy to cover your flight or if she'd killed you."

Now furious hatred began to burn at the edges of her heart. He hadn't thought to put any restraints on her. If she could just get close enough, Martharine would be able to char the flesh from his bones. She had to keep him talking without making him suspicious.

"What do you want from me?" the queen asked, briefly placing a hand to her forehead as though to rub away the ache and then setting it down again a few inches closer to his boot.

"From you? Nothing, really," he shrugged. "It's simply that you are the last one who can identify and connect me to the war's conception. I've always kept careful track of everyone who knew I was involved."

But that meant her advisors, bodyguards, King Lugius and his commanders… All of them were _dead?_ She lowered her head, slumping in a way that brought her fingers almost within reach. Not too much at once.

"Is there no way I can convince you to let me live? Why would you bring me to this place if you could have killed me that night and ended it all then?" She paused to blink several times, wondering if there was something wrong with her sight. His form looked blurry at the edges, as though he wasn't fully there.

He regarded her with the slightest trace of amusement. "I've always allowed myself the luxury of catering to my whims. I simply didn't _feel_ like killing you at the time. The others had nothing worthy of my attention, though I admit it would have been interesting to see what I could do to Lugius. I would have liked to see how he would respond on the end of one of his own leashes." There was a wry chuckle of amusement at the thought. "But he got himself killed while trying to assassinate my sister-in-law. Athena apparently was expecting that from him."

The indigo squirrel froze. If Queen Athena was his sister-in-law, that meant… _Rakar_ … She remembered the name now. All this time she had been dancing to his tune, letting herself be manipulated into a plot created by King Mortesen's younger brother.

"I see you finally figured it out. My orders were to lure Rofaki into the war and use it weaken their country beyond repair, but they weren't strong enough by themselves. I specifically chose Gardford because none of you knew who I was. It also felt right to destroy you for being responsible for my grandparents' deaths, but that's more a matter of justice than revenge. You certainly took the bait, didn't you?"

Her hand shot forward—only to pass through his boot, the flames searing nothing but some stray bits of straw scattered on the floor. An illusion? But it didn't disappear at the discovery and Rakar gazed down at her, laughing so suddenly that the squirrel darted back, afraid.

"Shadows don't burn very well, do they? I suspected you might try that."

The realization that she was completely helpless finally impacted her. She couldn't run or fight…no one would come looking for her. This place would be her tomb.

The red-brown hedgehog stared at her with a penetrating gaze. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a way that made her mouth go dry with terror. He stepped slowly, deliberately toward her. Martharine backed away, feeling her limbs begin to tremble. But the cell was small and there was nowhere to go.

"Did you know there is a delicate balance when it comes to magic? It is tied in a mysterious way to both the body and soul of a person. That's why restraint manacles work so well. The right kind of barrier on the body blocks its use, but from the soul's side it is much more interesting. I've done a few tentative experiments with this…yet I always held back for some reason." He knelt, taking hold of her chin, and she felt her breath catch as she stared into those hard crimson eyes. "I don't see the purpose in holding back any longer."

Unseen claws slid _through_ her in a way she had no ability to describe. They reached deep, grabbing hold of something, and suddenly there was a feeling she could only relate to a searing hot blade slicing away inside. The attack twisted uncontrollable shrieks from her throat. Then the last few threads severed, leaving a shapeless void in the center of her body. Something she had never known was an intimate part of herself was _gone_. She had nothing but a ragged wound there now and no way to staunch the bleeding.

Martharine's screams devolved into helpless sobs as he released her. Rakar stared down, thoughtful curiosity spreading over his features. For some reason he thought this moment would be harder. Instead he felt… _nothing_.

"Mortesen," he breathed, "I never realized until now that you were my conscience. Whenever I kept myself from doing certain things it was always because I didn't want you to be ashamed of me. I don't have that weakness anymore."

The squirrel had curled into a ball, tears flowing from her eyes. Ever since the beginning he had planned to kill this arrogant woman, but seeing her reduced to a miserable, crippled thing teased at his enjoyment of the moment. Rakar left the cell, returning a minute later with a parcel made of sealskin: Nymph's gift from six months earlier.

"I think I will let you live after all," he said after watching her for a time. "When you leave here, you will be unable to tell anyone about me or even use your own name. And I will make sure suicide will be an impossible escape from your punishment."

Martharine opened her bloodshot eyes, seeing him unwrap the collection of tools. She had seen interrogations in her own dungeon before and knew what it was. But the emptiness where her magic used to live seemed so large that bodily pain could hardly compare.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to give you any deep wounds. I just want to make sure no one will ever be able to recognize your face."

Solid shadows curled around her limbs, holding her tight.

* * *

 **Several days later in the kingdom of Emeralias…**

King Devilish turned to the soldier who had delivered the news only moments earlier, one eyebrow raised in surprise. "Mortesen is dead? Well, it's not as though I expected anything else. I wonder what Gardford and Rofaki are going to rename the country."

"Sire, Cosium defeated them. The Gardfordian and Rofakian soldiers are being sent home as we speak, tails between their legs. There are very few of them left."

"So Cosium survived." He leaned back in his chair, gazing at a tapestry depicting the castle that hung on the far wall. "With Mortesen gone, who will rule the country now?"

"According to the message, Lord Rakar will be raised to regency as soon as possible."

Devilish narrowed his eyes just slightly. " _Him?_ …That one may be trouble. I don't like the idea of that schemer in charge of anything, especially with the company he's been keeping lately. He might just decide Emeralias is too enticing to leave unconquered."

"Is there anything we can do?" the soldier asked, growing nervous. "Cosium defeated two countries on their own soil. Do we even have a chance against that kind of power?"

"…Perhaps the most logical solution is to make Emerallias as undesirable as possible." The hedgehog king continued to stare at the tapestry, noting the musical instruments decorating the corners. "I'll issue a decree in a few days. All instruments made of metal are to be collected and melted down to make weapons. After that is done, I'll wait a few months and come up with another excuse for others to be taken away. Never so much at one time that they understand until it's too late. Without their music, the country will grow dry. Rakar will never consider Emeralias worth his time. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sire," the soldier saluted before leaving.

Devilish's eyes slowly turned to the scepter that leaned against his desk. Running one fingernail along the glassy surface of its head, he gazed once again at the red Cosmos Diamond within. Anger grew inside, a reflexive response to the feeling of intense power he could feel emanating from it, but one that slid around him as though he wasn't there. During his coronation the scepter had rejected him. Some theorized it was because he had no Royal blood, but there was no certain way of finding out.

He sat there, ravenously staring at the Cosmos Diamond of Emeralias and seething at the existence of a power he could not touch even though it was so close. He had no idea that in Cosium Castle, another hedgehog stared at its sister Diamond, wondering the exact same thing. Rakar clenched the rod so tightly that the bones of his fingers stood out, silently begging it to accept him during the ceremony. He was the son of King Negolas too. It was his _right!_ If it refused him, he…he would simply _force_ it to work for him.

* * *

 **In Titor's Garden a week after the end of the war** **…**

Princess Lefae of Rofaki sat curled up on the bed that was little more than a mat on the floor. She hadn't allowed herself to cry even once since her capture, but she certainly wanted to. Not for the reasons anyone would expect, though. Being imprisoned didn't make her nearly so frightened as the idea that she would be returned to Rofaki. Her father…if he had to pay ransom, what would he make her do to compensate for the humiliation and loss of wealth?

When she had tried to speak with the ones who lived in this village, they tied her hands and hung the rope from a hook high on the wall for at least half an hour until her muscles screamed. It was the same punishment slaves received for defiance in the Rofakian camp. She didn't know if Prydain had told them to do that or if some of the former slaves who still lingered in Titor's Garden suggested it.

In the weeks since she'd been brought to this place, Prydain had only returned once at the very beginning. He was needed to train the army's soldiers how to use Light magic properly, so she received very little of his attention.

Just as she was thinking about him once more, the door unlocked and he stood there, surveying her. She remained silent, bowing her head in respect until he saw fit to let her speak.

"Rofaki and Gardford have been defeated. Your father died in the battle. You can go home now."

He took out the key and unlocked her collar, but she continued to sit on the mat looking miserable. Not even a flicker of sorrow or pity for Lugius touched her heart.

"There is no place for me in Rofaki. My brother will inherit the throne. My only hope to avoid a forced marriage was by helping my father take over Cosium. He promised to give me territory here in exchange for my services." She looked away. "What else was I to him other than a political pawn and a useful tool when it came to training slaves? I had no choice. I know you hate me, and you have every right to keep me in that collar."

The orange hedgehog came a few steps closer. "I was angry— _furious_. But I also know it's wrong to turn around and do the same thing to you. …Princess, why did you choose me out of all the slaves?"

She darted a glance upward, then dropped her eyes again, cheeks starting to flush. "It's foolish."

"I still want to know."

The collie ducked her head a little. "…To get back at my father. I've told myself for years it didn't matter that he was unfaithful to my mother, but I suppose my actions betrayed my true feelings. You were younger than most of the soldiers and very handsome. After your mind was addled, one night I took you where I knew he would see and ordered you to kiss me. Then I brought you to my dwelling."

Prydain's face went red. He had some vague half-memory of following her to the room, but that was all. Shame swept over him.

"Don't worry. Your honor is intact," she said with reassurance. "I had you sleep on a pallet in the corner. It was only for appearance's sake. It pleased me to see how much he despised the idea, but he couldn't say a word about it without being a hypocrite. I can't tell you how much I gloated over his anger."

The hedgehog still looked embarrassed, though now it was the prospect that he'd been used as a means of petty retaliation that bothered him.

"I'm sorry. For it all," she murmured.

He continued to stare. "I don't remember too much very clearly, but I do know you stopped calling me Tai'Daishar. Why?"

"Because you were right." Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her clearly. "Prydain is your real name and nothing I said or did could change that. You made me feel terrible that day I took away your thoughts, whether you believe it or not. Until then I never allowed myself to think of the morality of what we were doing to your people. It didn't occur to me because I've seen collared wilders my whole life."

"Well, you're not collared anymore. You're free to go wherever you like," he said, gesturing to the open doorway.

"I told you I have nowhere to go."

"If that's true…I suppose you could stay in Cosium." Prydain gazed at her, seeing the sadness behind her eyes. "As strange as it seems, I wouldn't mind getting to know you without a leash between us, Princess Lefae."

The edge of a smile touched her mouth. "Please, I would much rather go by your name for me… 'Moondark'. It's lovely in a way my birth name is not." She allowed the smile to widen slightly. "If it makes you feel any better, you are very good at kissing. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought you _did_ want me."

The hedgehog reached out, touching her hand softly though the redness in his cheeks was still present. "I said I was furious. I never said I hated you. And I'm not really mad anymore."

* * *

 **Several days later in Briny Bay** **…**

Lini wandered through the streets of the port city a short distance from the castle, keeping as far from the crowds as she could. People had been packed so tightly into the place just the week before, but now they were mostly gone, leaving the roads littered with garbage in their rush to return home.

The young fox was not sure what to do now that she was no longer a Rofakian slave and certainly no Coizard citizen. Once she found Farrell's family…then what? Could she even do any sort of trade not related to her magic? Could she even do anything else? …And who would want to hire a murderer like herself?

There were only nine Rofakian wilders left alive after the battle, and Queen Athena had graciously offered them a temporary house in Briny Bay until they decided what to do with themselves. They all stayed there with the exception of Tar'Valon, who had disappeared after a few days. But they were so frightened of everything and everyone, the same way she had been at first. It felt so awkward having grown men and women practically cling to her whenever she came in the room, but most unpleasant was that they seemed to expect her to tell them what they should do. They looked up to her even though she was the youngest among them.

It was so unsettling that there were times when she _had_ to get away.

Being able to go where she pleased was an enjoyable freedom, but the pressing crowds still frightened her. Lini continued to make her way through Briny Bay, finally winding up at the docks. Traffic was less dense here and there was plenty to see. She watched men loading boats with boxes and barrels, all the while singing rhythmic songs to help pace their work.

The songs reminded her of something. With surprise she found herself quietly chanting along. A prickle of hot tears made Lini blink quickly and she forced herself to stop listening. The fox found an empty crate and sat down. After a while someone touched her shoulder from behind, addressing her with a snort of impatience.

"Celes, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Mother at the inn while—" The boy stopped speaking as she turned to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were my little sister."

Lini's eyes fastened on him. He was a fox, probably sixteen or seventeen, with deep mauve fur and a wide muzzle…and somehow familiar. Faint memories tugged at a suppressed portion of her mind.

"Edgar?" she asked, unsure.

The apologetic smile faded into confusion. Then his eyes widened with the beginning of shock. " _Terra?_ "

Her throat was tight but she managed to whisper, "Yes. _**I**_ …am…Terra."

An instant later Edgar threw his arms around her, sobbing her name over and over.

The outer shell that was Lini burned away, revealing the timid little girl that had been snatched from a dock while her parents were bartering nearby…that had been drugged and tossed into a ship among a group of other kidnapped children…that had found herself sold to Rofakians…that had thought her real self lost forever as her will was ground down by lies and humiliations…

Terra stood in the ashes of Lini, hugging her older brother as eleven years worth of tears flooded down her cheeks.

* * *

 **A/N: And there it is: the tale is done! I've loved that song since "Land Before Time" came out when I was three, and though I'm not too fond of throwing lyrics into the middle of stories, this time it seemed appropriate. The funeral described here is really what happens to the bodies of royal family members. I made a reference to another story about the wicked King Devilish by Mephilesthe who crushed his country just because doing so amused him.**


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